


Clue

by cc tinslebee (Doitlikeagreaser)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Buzzfeed Unsolved Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Clue AU, Gen, references to tinsworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-06 07:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 21,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitlikeagreaser/pseuds/cc%20tinslebee
Summary: "That's what we're trying to find out! We're trying to find out who killed him, and where, and with what!"Six guests are invited to a strange house and soon discover that they have one thing in common - they're being blackmailed. In the heat of the moment, their blackmailer is found dead and they must cooperate with the remaining staff to solve the murder.This is the Buzzfeed Unsolved AU for CLUE, the 1985 movie based on theParker Brothers board game of the same name. This movie,though not a critical success, holds a special place in manyhearts. It stars Tim Curry, Martin Mull, Madeline Kahn,Michael McKean, Lesley Ann Warren, Christopher Lloyd,and Eileen Brennan.The original screenplay was written by Jonathan Lynn, from a story byJohn Landis and Jonathan Lynn.The movie was directed by Jonathan Lynn.Note: the transcript is based on the videotape version, whichincludes all three endings--A, B, and C.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> further buzzfeed unsolved (and more) content can be found @/cc-tinslebee on tumblr

NEW ENGLAND  
1954

A nice, black car travels through the wind of an oncoming storm. It pulls up to the gate of a large, imposing mansion, looking very New England -- Hill House. The sky above is dark and growing stormier by the second.

A man with short black hair and a dark trench coat takes out a key and unlocks the gate. He drives the car up to the front door.

He exits the car, holding a bag and looking at two barking guard dogs. The dogs approach the man and leap towards him. He quickly pulls a big beef bone out of the bag and hurls it to them. The dogs trot away to gnaw on the bone as he rolls up the bag. The man cinches their chain so it won't allow them to reach the door. He steps toward the door and sniffs.

He pauses and checks the bottom of his feet. Dog crap. He looks in disgust at the dogs, who aren't bothered at all.

The Hall of Hill House is remarkable, elegant but not gaudy. It is furnished in dark wood, and brass, with crystal chandeliers. There are several doors on each side of the hall and three at the end.  
To the left: Lounge and dining room.  
To the right: Study, library, and billiard room.  
The end: Conservatory, ball room, bathroom, and kitchen.  
The stairs are located to the right.  
By the staircase is the door to the basement steps.

"Shake, Rattle, and Roll" plays in the background. The man opens the front door of Hill House and wipes off his foot. He enters and hangs up his coat, revealing a black tailcoat, his collar popped up ever so slightly. He steps briskly down the Hall steps toward the library.

The library is a somewhat more comfortable room than the hall, composed of dark colors. All of the walls are covered with books, with the exception of one wall, a window.

A young, blonde, french maid is dancing while polishing a glass. The music is much louder. The man enters and turns off the record player. The music stops.

He speaks to the maid in a proper English accent. "Is everything ready?"

"Oui, monsieur," she replies in her French accent.

"You have your instructions?" he confirms.

The maid nods and he exits. She sniffs the air, and then examines the bottom of her shoes.

The man enters the kitchen, which is white tiled and narrow. There is a meat freezer to the right. A counter leads off to the left. The cook is sharpening a knife as she watches Joseph McCarthy on the television.

"Is everything all right, Mrs. Ho?" he asks.

She turns, the knife in her hand pointed directly at the man. "Dinner will be ready at seven-thirty."

The doorbell rings. The man hurries out of the kitchen.

Another man with short, light brown hair is standing by the front door, being growled at by the dogs. He is wearing a brown suit and a nice cream tie. He is clearly uncomfortable.

The man from before opens the door, "Good evening."

"Good evening. I don't know if--"

"Yes, indeed, sir, you are expected, Mayor," he confirms. "May I take your coat? It is Mayor Banjo, isn't it?"

"No, that's not my name. My name is Mayor--"

"Pardon me, sir," the man impedes, "but tonight you may well feel obliged to my employer for the use of an alias."

Banjo sniffs around and checks his shoe as the man hangs his coat.

The pair starts across the hall.

"And who are you, sir?" Banjo inquires.

"I'm Goldsworth, sir. The butler."

The maid is present when the men enter the library.

"Yvette, will you attend to the Mayor and give him anything he requires," Goldsworth instructs, glancing at the two of them. "Within reason, that is."

Goldsworth exits, closing the doors behind him. The doors have books on the back of them, and so look like a part of the wall.

"Oh, Goldsworth, I was--" Banjo turns around, but discovers the doors have disappeared.

The bell rings once again.

Goldsworth opens the door revealing a woman standing there. "Do come in, madam. You are expected."

"Do you know who I am?" the woman asks as she enters. She wears a fitting, black coat and a veiled pillbox hat sits on top of her shoulder length, wavy, black hair.

"Only that you are to be known as Mrs. Noir," Goldsworth replies.

"Yes, it said so in the letter. But, why . . . ?" 

Goldsworth removes her coat, with a brilliantly white inside. Mrs. Noir sniffs and checks her shoe.

Yvette and Mayor Banjo are back in the library. Banjo is sipping Cognac and stealing glances at Yvette. The doors open, the left one into Mayor Banjo.

"Ah. May I introduce you? Mrs. Noir, this is Yvette, the maid." The women glance at each other. Goldsworth observes that there seems to be a sense of familiarity and disgust between the two. "I see you know each other."

Mrs. Noir turns away as Mayor Banjo emerges from behind the door.

"Hello," Mrs. Noir says dismissively.

"Hello," Banjo replies with an awkward smile.


	2. Chapter 2

A slim man with a similar, dark haircut to Goldsworth is standing by his broken down car. An owl can be heard. He hits the scarlet car, obviously frustrated as thunder roars in the distance.

The man sees headlights a short way away. He smooths his nice, tailored, green suit. As the car nears, he bends over the engine and lifts a leg. The car screeches to a halt just past him and backs up. The man approaches the stranger's purple car and peers in. The driver has short, dirty blond hair and is wearing a black suit with a plum waistcoat and a matching striped bow tie.

"Want a lift?" the driver says.

"Yes, please . . ." the first man replies in a sultry tone as he gets in.

Once inside the stranger's car, the first man speaks again. "Thanks. I'm late for a dinner date."

"Me too," replies the driver. "Where are you going?

The first man pulls out a sheet of paper. "Let's see . . . Hill House. Off Route 41."

"Wait a minute. Let me look at that," the second man takes the paper. "That's where I'm going. I got a letter like this."

They both look at each other, clearly disturbed.

The rain starts pouring, the sky looks worse that before. The windshield wipers start as the car pulls away.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And this is Mrs. Gold."

Back at Hill House, a middle aged woman is in the doorway of the library. She wears a fur coat over a floral dress. Her hair is put up with a complicated, flowery headpiece.

Banjo nods his head respectfully. "How do you do?"

"Hello," nods Mrs. Noir.

Goldsworth turns to the maid. "Yvette, will you go and check that dinner will be ready as soon as all the guests have arrived?"

Yvette nods. Mrs. Gold stares almost disapprovingly at Yvette as she exits the library.

The doorbell rings.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is now raining quite hard. A man with a similar haircut to Mayor Banjo is standing at the door, much like Mayor Banjo was. He wears a blue suit along with a matching vest and a red tie. The dogs, of course, are growling.

Goldsworth opens the door.

The man stares for a moment with the look of a man who had seen a ghost. He quickly collects himself. "Is this the right address to meet Mr. Boddy?"

The butler looks him over, seeming to have a similar impression. "Oh, you must be Mr. Tin," Goldsworth remarks.

"Yes . . ."

"Sit!" Goldsworth barks at the dogs.

Mr. Tin frantically sits on a bench by the door.

Goldsworth shakes his head. "No. Not you, sir."

Mr. Tin sheepishly gets up and enters the house.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The two men from before are still trying to find their way. Outside, it continues to pour.

"It should be just off there," the first man says. He points towards the intimating mansion that is Hill House.

"That must be it," replies the driver.

Lightning crashes, illuminating the house. The second man tries to drive the car forward to no avail.

"Why is the car stopped?" the first man asks.

"It's frightened."

The car is started again and it rolls up the driveway.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lightning crashes, making Mr. Tin gulp.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The men from before exit their car and run for the front door. The driver blocks his companion from the now heavy rain. "What a godforsaken place!" he shouts over the rainfall.

The door opens, revealing Goldsworth.

"Mr. Legs!" his gaze shifts from Legs to the shorter man beside him. "And Mister Night. I didn't realize you were acquainted."

Mister Night glances over at Mr. Legs. "We weren't."

Goldsworth ushers them in from the cold and brings them over to the library.

The doors open to reveal Mr. Legs and Mister Night to the other guests.

"May I present Mr. Legs . . . and Mister Night," Goldsworth declares. The guests all nod.

Legs and Night receive wine glasses from Yvette, whom Legs eyes suspiciously. He then clinks glasses with Mister Night, who looks thoroughly annoyed.

"Of course, since you've each been addressed by a pseudonym, you'll have realized that nobody here is being addressed by their real name," Goldsworth acknowledges.

The guests glance around suspiciously. Then, Mrs. Ho bangs a bong once, fiercely.

The gong plays a second time. Mr. Tin jumps at the sound, dumping his champagne on Mr. Gold.

Unbothered by the sudden noise, Goldsworth replies, "Ah. Dinner."

Mr. Tin hands Mrs. Gold his glass and starts to mop her up as she clucks. "I'm sorry . . . I'm a little accident-prone . . ."


	3. Chapter 3

The guests cross to the Dining Room The dining room is elegant, in similar decor to the Hall, but it is somewhat more comfortable. However, the room is still small. At one end, there is a door and a metal partition, both leading to the kitchen. The guests file in.

"You'll find your names beside your places," Goldsworth offers. "Please be seated."

The guests, except for Mayor Banjo, find their places and sit. Goldsworth sets Mister Night's drink on the table, to his pleasure.

Banjo indicates the head of the table. "Is this place for you?"

Goldsworth shakes his head. "Oh, indeed, no, sir. I'm merely a humble butler."

"And what exactly do you do?" Banjo inquires.

"I buttle, sir," Goldsworth replies.

"Which means what?" implores Banjo, seemingly annoyed by Goldsworth's crytidness. 

"The butler is head of the kitchen and dining room," Goldsworth explains. "I keep everything . . . tidy. That's all."

Mayor Banjo attempts to continue but is interrupted by Mrs. Gold.

"Well, what's all this about, butler;" she asks. "This dinner party?"

"Ours is not to reason why . . . Ours is but to do and die." Goldsworth states.

Mr. Legs looks up suddenly. "Die?"

"Merely quoting, sir, from Alfred, Lord Tennyson," Goldsworth retorts with a smile.

Banjo seats himself next ot Mister Night. "Hm. I prefer Kipling, myself. The female of the species is more deadly than the male." he turns to Night. "You like Kipling, Mister Night?"

"Sure, I'll eat anything," he replies.

Yvette enters carrying a tray. Placing one in front o Mrs. Gold, she says "Sharks' Fin Soup, Madame."

"So is this for our host?" Banjo asks, again indicating the head.

"No, sir," Goldsworth refutes. "For the seventh guest, Dr. Boddy."

"I thought Dr. Boddy was our host?" Mrs. Noir adds.

The guests all concur.

"So who is our host, Mr. Goldsworth?" Mrs. Noir inquires.

Goldsworth chuckles with a closed smile.

Mr. Legs looks down at the soup. "Well, I want to start, while it's still hot."

"Oh, now shouldn't we wait for the other guest?" Mrs. Gold argues.

"I will keep somesing warm for eem," Yvette says.

Mister Night turns to face the maid. "What did you have in mind, dear?"

Silence.

Mr. Legs slurps soup from his spoon. Mrs. Noir looks at him disapprovingly, then does the same. Banjo, Night, and Tin stare at them, spoons poised near mouths. They do it again.

Silence.

"Well, someone's got to break the ice, and it might as well be me," Mrs. Gold starts breathlessly. "I mean, I'm used to being a hostess; it was part of my husband's work, and it's always difficult when a group of new friends meet together for the first time to get acquainted, so I'm perfectly prepared to start the ball rolling . . . I mean, I have absolutely no idea what we're doing here, or what I'm doing here, or what this place is about, but I am determined to enjoy myself and I'm very intrigued and oh, my, this soup's delicious isn't it?"

Everyone sits bewildered.

"You say you are used to being a hostess as part of your husband's work?" Mrs. Noir confirms.

"Yes, it's an integral part of your life when you were the wife of a. . ." Mrs. Gold stops herself. "Oh, but then I forgot we're not supposed to say who we really are, though heavens to Betsy, I don't know why."

"Don't you," Banjo remarks, skeptically. 

Mr. Tin looks up from his soup. "I know who you are."

Mister Night turns to look at him. "Aren't you going to tell us?"

Mrs. Gold removes her glasses nervously. "How do you know who I am?"

"I work in Washington, too," he says simply with a smile. 

Mr. Legs looks at her. "Oh, so you were a politician's wife."

Mrs. Gold looks away. "Yes, I-I was."

"Well, come on, then. Who was your husband?" Banjo demands.

Suddenly, Goldsworth opens the door from the kitchen.

Mrs. Gold looks over to Mrs. Noir. "So, what does your husband do?"

"Nothing," Mrs. Noir says quickly, almost cutting Gold off. 

"Nothing?" Mrs. Gold repeats.

"Well," Mrs. Noir think for a moment. "He . . . just . . . lies around on his back all day."

"Sounds like hard work to me," Mister Night comments.

Yvette, in the kitchen, opens the partition suddenly. The noise coincides with a crash of thunder.

Mr. Tin, jumpy as ever, spills his drink again, this time on Mister Night.

"I'm . . . sorry. I'm afraid I'm a little accident-prone," he says, much like before, as he starts to wipe off Mister Night's upper chest.

"Ah--watch it," Night barks and Mr. Tin stops.

Yvette starts serving food. "Excuse moi."

The guests start eating.

"Mmm! This is one of my favorite recipes!" Mrs. Gold announces.

"I know, madam," Goldsworth replies softly.

Mrs. Gold dabs at the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "So, what do you do in Washington, D.C., Mr. Tin?"

No answer.

"Come on, what do you do? I mean, how are we to get acquainted if we don't say anything about ourselves?"

"Perhaps he doesn't want to get acquainted with you," Mister Night snaps angrily.

"Well, I'm sure I don't know, but if I wasn't trying to keep the conversation going, then we would just be sitting here in an embarrassed silence," Mrs. Gold says defensively. 

"Are you afraid of silence, Mrs. Gold?" Mr. Legs inquires.

"Yes! What? No, why?"

"Oh, it just seems to me that you seem to suffer from what we call pressure of speech," he responds dismissively.

Mister Night looks up. "We? Who's we? Are you a shrink?

"I do know a little bit about psychology, yes," Legs replies.

"Are you a lawyer?" Mrs. Noir implores.

"I am, but I don't practice."

Mister Night chuckles. "Practice makes perfect. Ha. I think most men need a little  
practice, don't you, Mrs. Gold?"

Mrs. Gold shrugs, very uncomfortable.

"So what do you do, Esquire?" Mrs. Noir insists.

"I work for the DOJ, the Department of Justice," Mr. Legs says.

"Another politician. Jesus!" Banjo remarks, clearly unnerved.

"No, I work for a branch of DOJ. USMS, the United States Marshals Service," Mr. Legs corrects.

"Well, what is your area of special concern?" Mrs. Gold asks him.

"Domestic cases," he says simply before turning Banjo. "What about you, Mayor? Are you a real mayor?"

"I am, sir."

"You're not going to mention the coincidence that you also reside in Washington, D.C.?" Mister Night adds.

"How did you know that? Have we met before?" Banjo asks, unnerved.

"I've certainly seen you before. Although you may not have seen me."

Mr. Tin turns to Night. "So, Mister Night, does this mean that you live in Washington, too?"

He smiles. "Sure do."

"Does anyone here not live in Washington, D.C.?" Mrs. Gold insists.

"I don't," Legs responds.

"Yes, but you work for the United Nations. That's a government job," Mr. Tin remarks. "And the rest of us all live in a government town. Anyone here not earn their living from the government in one way or another?"

Mayor Banjo stands suddenly and turns angrily to Goldsworth. "Goldsworth, where's our host, and why have we been brought here?"

The doorbell rings and Goldsworth exits, glancing at Banjo as he goes. The door opens. The guests share glances as they listen to Goldsworth and an unknown man.


	4. Chapter 4

"Ah! Good evening. You are eagerly awaited," Goldsworth affirms.

"You lockin' me in?" says the man. "I'll take the key."

Again, Goldsworth speaks. "Over my dead body, sir. May I take your bag?

"No. I'll leave it here 'til I need it."

"It contains evidence, I presume?"

"Surprises, my friend. That's what it contains--surprises!"

Goldsworth enters the dining room, followed by a man dressed in all black -- much like Mrs. Noir.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Dr. Boddy," Goldsworth announces with a tired look.

"What are they all doin' here?" Dr. Boddy says accusingly at Goldsworth.

"Eating dinner," Goldsworth replies sharply. "Do sit down, Dr. Boddy."

Dr. Boddy sits down. "Thanks."

He stops Yvette as she starts to serve him. "Nah, you can take that away, honey."

Mrs. Gold hits the table. "Look. I demand to know what's going on," she says angrily. "Now why have we all been dragged up to this horrible place?"

"Well. I believe we all received a letter," Goldsworth pulls out an envelope. "My letter says, It will be to your advantage to be present on this date because a Dr. Boddy will bring to an end a certain long-standing confidential and painful financial liability. It is signed, A friend."

"I received a similar letter," Mr. Tin announces.

"So did we, didn't we." Mr. Night agrees, indicating Mr. Legs.

"I also received a letter," Dr. Boddy states. Yvette starts to serve him again. "No thanks, Yvette. I just ate."

Mr. Tin looks over to the head of the table. "Now, how did you know her name?" he inquires.

"We know each other," he starts to put his hand up Yvette's short skirt. "Don't we, dear?"

She recoils immediately.

Goldsworth clears his throat almost defensively. "Forgive my curiosity, Dr. Boddy, but did your letter say the same thing?"

"No."

"I see . . ." Goldsworth turns to the guests. "Can I interest any of you in fruit or dessert?"

No response.

Goldsworth nods. "In that case, may I suggest we adjourn to the study for coffee and brandy, at which point I believe our unknown host will reveal his intentions."


	5. Chapter 5

The study is by far the most comfortable room in the house so far. It is decorated in subdued tan colors. There are several couches, a bookshelf, a table with drinks, and a desk.

The guests enter and look around for their host.

"Well, there's no one here," notes Mr. Tin.

"Please help yourself to brandy and be seated," Goldsworth tells the guests. He goes to the desk and takes a manilla envelope. It reads;

For Goldsworth, Open AFTER DINNER

Mister Night sits on the love seat. "Mind if I smoke?" He offers a cigarette to Banjo, who declines. Mr. Legs, seated next to him, lights the other man's cigarette.

Goldsworth opens the envelope. He pursues the contents. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm instructed to you what you all have in common with each other. Unless you would care to do the honors, Dr. Boddy?"

"Why me?" Dr. Boddy demands. "They know who I am?"

"I don't think so. You've never identified yourself to them, I believe."

Dr. Boddy stands suddenly. "It's a hoax! I suggest we all leave," he takes off out the study door.

"I'm sorry, sir, you cannot leave this house!" Goldsworth rushes after him.

Dr. Boddy goes to the front door. Goldsworth follows, and he is followed by the other guests.

"No? Who's gonna stop me?" Dr. Boddy asks cockily.

"There's no way out," Goldsworth explains. Dr. Boddy tries the front door. It's locked. "All the windows have bars, all the doors are locked."

"This is an outrage! You can't hold us prisoner!" Dr. Boddy exclaims angrily

The guests, in confusion, agree.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please!" Goldsworth shouts over the din. "Please return to the study. Everything will be explained."

The guests file unhappily back into the study. Dr. Boddy walks past Goldsworth toward the rear of the hall.

"You too, Dr. Boddy."

Boddy starts running.

"Other way!" Goldsworth yells, but continues to pursue Dr. Boddy.

The conservatory is humid, with plants all around. Three of the walls are brick, and the fourth is glass, leading to the outside. The rain can be heard and seen, against the glass.

Dr. Boddy runs in, picks up a brick and prepares to throw it through the glass. Goldsworth enters and watches him from the doorway.

"You can't get out that way," Goldsworth warns him.

"Why not?" Dr. Boddy asks snidely. "It's only glass!"

Suddenly, a vicious Doberman jumps at the glass, barking and snarling. Boddy drops the brick and looks defeated at Goldsworth, who seems satisfied.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests are already present. Goldsworth and Dr. Boddy enter. Goldsworth takes up his envelope again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, you all have one thing in common," Goldsworth begins. "You're all being blackmailed. For some considerable time, all of you have been paying what you can afford and, in some cases, more than you can afford to someone who threatens to expose you. And none of you know who's blackmailing you, do you?"

"Oh, please!" Mrs. Gold exclaims. "I've never heard anything so ridiculous. I mean, nobody could blackmail me. My life is an open book--I've never done anything wrong."

Goldsworth turns to the group again. "Anybody else wish to deny it?"

The guests look at each other, but no one responds.

The butler nods. "Very well. As everyone here is in the same boat, there's no harm in my revealing some details. And my instructions are to do so. Thank you, Yvette."

The maid, so dismissed, leaves. Dr. Boddy's eyes follow her out.

"Don't you think you might spare us this humiliation?" Mrs. Noir says with a tired look.

"I'm sorry," Goldsworth tells herherMr. Legs, you were once an attorney for your own company, specializing in taking cases of paranoid and homicidal lunatics suffering from delusions of grandeur."

"Yes, but now I work for the Department of Justice," Mr. Legs says.

"So your work has not changed," Goldsworth nods. "But you don't practice law at the D.O.J. His license to practice has been lifted, correct?" 

"Why? What did he do?" Mister Night asks, now leaning against the piano.

Goldsworth stands beside Mister Night. "You know who law firms aren't supposed to be bribed by?"

"Yeah?" Mister Night replies suspiciously.

"Well, he did," Goldsworth confirms with a shrug.

"Ha!" exclaims Mister Night.

"Oh, how disgusting," voices Mrs. Gold.

"Are you making moral judgements, Mrs. Gold?" Goldsworth asks, swooping down to her. "How, then, do you justify paying blackmail to cover up the humiliation of your husband having an illegitimate child then leaving you years later?"

"My husband was a conman and a terrible person," Mrs. Gold defends, visibly discouraged by her husband's mention. "None of that was my fault!"

"Not if he did that on his own accord, perhaps," Goldsworth agrees. "But if the payment also included covering up getting bullied into leaving your two children, how would you describe that transaction?"

"I'd say it stinks," Mister Night adds, malice in his smooth voice.

"Well, how would you know," Mrs. Gold asks defensively. "Where were you when it happened?"

"So it's true!" Mr. Legs exclaims, sitting up on the couch.

Mrs. Gold stands suddenly. "No, it's a vicious lie!"

"I'm sure we're all glad to hear that," Goldsworth comments slyly. "But you've been paying blackmail for over a year now to keep that story out of the papers.

Mrs. Noir looks at Mrs. Gold. "Well, I am willing to believe you. I too am being blackmailed for something I didn't do."

"Me too," adds Mr. Tin.

"And me," says Banjo.

"Not me," Mister Night comment with a smile.

Goldsworth turns to him in confusion. "You're not being blackmailed?"

"Oh, I'm being blackmailed, all right. But I did what I'm being blackmailed for," Night says with pride.

"What did you do?" Legs asks, his interest in the conversation peaking.

"Well, to be perfectly frank, I run a specialized gang and a telephone service which provide gentlemen with the company of a nonprescription for a short while," Night admits.

"Oh, yeah?" Mr. Legs pulls out a pen and paper. "What's the phone number?"

Mister Night rolls his eyes.

"So how did you know Mayor Banjo works in Washington?" Mr. Tin inquires. "Is he one of your clients?"

"Certainly not!" Banjo says, incredulous. 

"I was asking Mister Night," Tin deadpans.

Mayor Banjo turns to Mister Night. "Well, you tell him it's not true!"

"It's not true," Night replies dully.

Mr. Legs looks over. "Is that true?"

"No, it's not true," Night says with a hint of a smile.

"Ha-hah! So it is true!" Mr. Tin exclaims.

Goldsworth looks at Mr. Tin and beams. "A double negative!"

"Double negative? You mean you have--" Banjo whispers to Mister Night with concern. "Photographs?"

"That sounds like a confession to me," Goldsworth notes. "In fact, the double negative  
has led to proof positive. I'm afraid you gave yourself away."

Banjo turns to Goldsworth, red in the face. "Are you trying to make me look stupid in front of the other guests?"

"You don't need any help from me, sir," Goldsworth counters.

"That's right!"

It takes him a second but Mayor Banjo eventually realizes what he just said.

"But seriously," Mr. Legs proceeds. "I don't see what's so terrible about Mayor Banjo  
Using those kinds of things to relieve stress," he puts a hand on Night's shoulder. "Most people do, don't they?"

Mister Night stands up suddenly, brushing Legs's hand off as he goes. "Oh, please." 

"But he holds a sensitive position in his hometown," Goldsworth remarks. "And, Banjo, you drive a very expensive car for someone who lives on a mayor's pay."

"I don't," Banjo says simply. "I came into money during the war, when I lost my mommy and daddy."

Goldsworth is puzzled, but soon recovers "Mrs. Noir, you've been paying our friend the blackmailer ever since your husband died under, shall we say, mysterious circumstances."

Mister Night laughs.

"Why is that funny?" Mrs. Noir asks.

"I see. That's why he was lying on his back," Mister Night smiles. "In his coffin."

"I didn't kill him," Mrs. Noir replies dismissively.

"Then why are you paying the blackmailer?" inquires Banjo.

Mrs. Noir turns to Mayor Banjo. "I don't want a scandal, do I? We had had a very humiliating public confrontation, he was deranged . . . lunatic. He didn't actually seem to like me very much, he had threatened to kill me in public.

"Why would he want to kill you in public?" Mister Night asks her.

Goldsworth tilts his head. "I think she meant he threatened, in public, to kill her."

"Oh," Mister Night's expression goes from confused to amused. "And was that his final word on the matter?"

"Being killed is pretty final, wouldn't you say?" Mrs. Noir deadpans.

"And yet he was the one who died, not you, Mrs. Noir, not you," Goldsworth remarks.

"What did he do for a living?" inquires Mister Night.

"He was a scientist. Nuclear physics."

"What was he like?"

"He was always a rather stupidly optimistic man. I mean, I'm afraid it came as a great shock to him when he died. But he was found dead at home. His head had been cut off and so had his . . ." Mrs. Noir looks down at her lap and shrugs. "You know . . ."

The men in the room cross their legs. Mister Night simply smiles.

"I had been out all evening at the movies," Mrs. Noir explains.

"Do you miss him?" Night asks.

Mrs. Noir shrugs. "Well, it's a matter of life after death. Now that he's dead, I have a life."

"But he was your second husband," Goldsworth affirms. "Your first husband also disappeared."

"But that was his job. He was an illusionist," Mrs. Noir acknowledges.

"But he never reappeared," Goldsworth points out.

Mrs. Noir smiles. "He wasn't a very good illusionist."

Mr. Tin clears his throat and stands. "I have something to say," he pauses and glances at Goldsworth ever so briefly. "I'm not going to wait for Goldsworth here to unmask me. I work as a Detective Investigator. And I am a homosexual."

Goldsworth, wide-eyed, looks for Tin's file. Mrs. Gold clucks in disgust.

"I feel no personal shame or guilt about this. But I must keep it a secret or I will lose my job on security grounds," he pauses again. " . . . Thank you."

Mr. Tin sits back down next to Mr. Legs, who rapidly stands and walks away.

"Well, that just leaves Dr. Boddy," Mr. Legs notes.

Mister Night turns. "What's your little secret?"

"His secret? Oh, hadn't you guessed?" Goldsworth comments. "He's the one who's blackmailing you all."


	6. Chapter 6

Lightning crashes. Dr. Boddy looks very satisfied.

"You bastard!" Banjo exclaims. The guests advance on Dr. Boddy as he stands. Mayor Banjo challenges Dr. Boddy to fight, boxing-style. "Put 'em up!"

Dr. Boddy steps on the Banjo's toes and pokes him in the eyes.

Mr. Tin looks on at the two men with concern. "Gentlemen . . ."

"If you can't fight fairly, don't fight at all!" Banjo shouts.

"Calls me a bastard!" Dr. Boddy remarks.

Mr. Tin and the others try to separate them as Mayor Banjo recovers and Dr. Boddy goes for him. Mrs. Noir decides to take matters into her own hands and knees Dr. Boddy in the crotch.

"Was that necessary, Mrs. Noir?" questions Mr. Tin.

"Wait! Wait! The police are coming!" Goldsworth yells.

The guests voice their disapproval.

"Listen! Blackmail depends on secrecy," Goldsworth explains. "You've all admitted how he's been able to blackmail you. All you have to do is tell the police, he'll be convicted, and your troubles will be over."

Boddy stands, clearly still in pain. "'s not so easy. You'll never tell the police."

"Then I shall," counters Goldsworth. "I have evidence in my possession, and this conversation is being tape recorded."

Yvette is in the Billiard room, drinking cognac and listening to a tape recorder that is recording the study.

"Point of order--tape recordings are not admissible evidence!" Mr. Tin points out.

General confusion among the guests ensues.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the police will be here in about," Goldsworth checks his watch, "forty-five minutes. Tell them the truth, and Dr. Boddy will be behind bars."

Dr. Boddy goes for the hall. Goldsworth stops him.

"Where are you going this time?" Goldsworth inquires.

Dr. Boddy smirks. "I think I can help them make up their minds. Can I just get my little bag from the hall?"

Boddy enters the hall and gets his bags from by the front door. He reenters the study and starts to open his luggage. "Who can guess what's in here, eh?"

"The evidence against us, no doubt," Mrs. Noir guesses.

Dr. Boddy chuckles. He starts handing out boxes, each with a different size and shape.

"We didn't know we were meeting you tonight," Mister Night points out. "Did you know you were meeting us?"

"Oh, yes."

"What were you told, precisely?" Mrs. Noir asks.

"Merely that you were all meeting to discuss our little . . . financial arrangements," Dr. Boddy explains. "And if I did not appear, Goldsworth would be informing the police about it all. Naturally I could hardly resist putting in an appearance." He finishes handing out the packages before elbowing his way to the door. "'Scuse me." He leans against the doorway, eyeing the packages. "Open 'em."

Mister Night shrugs. "Why not? I enjoy getting presents from strange men." Night opens his package. "A candlestick? What's this for?"

Mrs. Noir opens her box and reveals a rope-tied in a noose.

Mr. Tin takes his box in one hand. He opens it and lets the contents fall into his other hand. A bent lead pipe.

Mayor Banjo opens his box and pulls out a heavy wrench.

Mr. Legs takes the lid off his package and looks in. He gingerly pulls out a revolver.

Finally, Mrs. Gold, who is twirling a dagger.

"In your hands, you each have a lethal weapon," Dr. Boddy paces the room and continues. "If you renounce me to the police, you will also be exposed and humiliated. I'll see to that in court," he pauses. "But . . . if one of you kills Goldsworth now . . ." Goldsworth's eyes widen in shock. " . . .no one but the seven of us will ever know. He has the key to the front door, which he said would only be opened over his dead body. I suggest we take him up on that offer." Dr. Boddy goes over to the light switch with deliberate ease. He closes the door to the hall and sets his drink down. "The only way to avoid finding yourselves on the front pages is for one of you to kill Goldsworth. Now."

He turns off the lights.


	7. Chapter 7

Noises can be heard.

Someone inhales raspily. A gunshot. Something ceramic shatters. A scream.

The lights go up. Mrs. Gold, who turned on the light, drops the dagger in shock. The guests turn to see Dr. Boddy lying prone on the floor.

"It's not Goldsworth!" Banjo exclaims.

The guests talk amongst themselves.

"Stand back! Give him air!" Mr. Legs kneels next to Dr. Boddy. "Let me see," he checks Dr. Boddy for signs of life. "He's dead!"

"Who had the gun?" Mrs. Noir implores.

"I did," Mr. Legs responds.

"Then you shot him!" Mrs. Gold shouts accusingly.

"I didn't!" Mr. Legs insists.

"Well, you had the gun," adds Mrs. Gold. "If you didn't shoot him, who did?"

Dr. Boddy is turned over.

"Nobody! Look, there's no gunshot wound," Mr. Legs replies. "Somebody tried to grab the gun from me in the dark and the gun went off. Look!" he rushes over to the mantel place. "The bullet broke that vase on the mantel!"

Everyone rushes for the mantel simultaneously, causing confusion.

"He's absolutely right," Banjo comments. "Look, there's a bullet hole here in the wall. See that?"

Mr. Tin grabs Mr. Legs by the lapels. "How did he die?"

"I don't know!" Mr. Legs shoves Mr. Tin away. "I'm not a forensic expert."

"Well, one of us must have killed him!" Mrs. Noir says.

"Well, I didn't do it," insists Mr. Tin.

"Oh, I need a drink!" Mrs. Gold exclaims. She goes to the door and gets Dr. Boddy's cognac. She sips.

Mr. Legs shoots up alarmed. "Maybe he was poisoned!"

Mrs. Gold drops the glass in revulsion and starts to scream. She won't stop. Mr. Tin ushers her to a sofa, offering words of comfort. She sits, but won't stop screaming. Mr. Tin slaps her.

Mr. Tin looks up, shocked at his own actions. "I . . . I had to stop her from screaming . . ." he stutters.

"Was the brandy poisoned?" Mr. Legs asks Tin.

"I don't know."

Mister Night picks up the glass. All the cognac has spilled out. "Looks like we'll never know."

"Unless . . ." Mr. Tin glances over at Mrs. Gold. "unless she dies, too."

They all rush over to scrutinize Mrs. Gold.

A scream erupts from another room. The guests gasp. They run from the study into the hall.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests run to the door of the billiard room. Mr. Tin tries it.

"It's locked!"

Goldsworth steps next to Mr. Tin and shouts at the door. "Open up!"

"It must be the murderer," Mr. Legs observes.

"Why would he scream?" Mr. Tin retorts.

"He must have a victim in there. Oh, my God! Yvette!" Mrs. Noir exclaims.

"Oh, my God!" Mr. Tin exclaims.

They push the doors open. Goldsworth and the guests pour in.

Goldsworth's eyes widen. "You're alive!"

Yvette stands next to the pool table, weeping. "No sanks to you!"

"What do you mean?" Goldsworth inquires.

"You lock me up with a murderer, you eediot!" Yvette retorted.

"So the murderer is in this room," Mrs. Noir remarks.

"Mai Oui!" agrees Yvette.

"But where?" Mr. Tin asks.

"Where? 'Ere!" Yvette declares.

Mr. Tin looks behind the door.

"We are all looking at eem. Or 'er," Yvette admits. "Is what Mrs. Noir said in ze study--one of you is ze killer!"

"How did you know we said that?" Mr. Legs asks.

"I was lisuning!" Yvette replies.

"But why were you screaming in here all by yourself?" Mrs. Noir inquires.

"Because I am frightened. Me too, I also drink ze cognac," Yvette sobs. "Mon diou. I can't stay in here by myself."

Mister Night and Mayor Banjo go to Yvette.

"Come back to the study with us," Mister Night says gently.

"With ze murderer?" she sniffles.

Banjo shakes the wrench. "There is safety in numbers . . ." he stops in realisation and puts the wrench away. ". . . my dear."

The guests leave the room. After they are gone, Goldsworth takes the tape off the spools.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Is there no indication of how he died?" asks Mr. Tin.

"No," Mr. Legs replies.

Goldsworth paces. "This is terrible. This is absolutely terrible! It's not what I'd intended. Oh, my God . . ."

Mrs. Noir looks up. "Not what YOU intended?"

"So you're not the butler?" adds Mister Night.

"I'm not THE butler, but I am A butler," Goldsworth explains. "In fact, I was his butler."

"So if he told you to invite us all to his house," Legs continues. "why did he arrive late?"

"I invited you," Goldsworth reveals. "In fact, I wrote the letters. It was all my idea."

"Wait a minute. I-I don't understand," Mrs. Noir approaches Goldsworth. "Why did you invite us here to meet your late employer? Were you assisting him to blackmail us?"

"Certainly not!" contends Goldsworth.

"I think you had better explain," Mrs. Noir remarks.

"Please sit down. Everyone," Goldsworth requests.

Everyone sits but Mr. Tin. He searches for a spot, but no one gives it to him. He ends up leaning against a serving table.

"When I said that I was Dr. Boddy's butler," Goldsworth starts. "this was both true and misleading. I was once his butler, but it was not his untimely death this evening that brought my employment with him to an end."

"When did it come to an end?" Banjo inquires.

"When my lover decided to. . ." Goldsworth searches for the words. ". . .end our relationship . They too were being blackmailed by this odious man who now lies dead before us. He hated my lover for the same reason that he hated all of you. He believed that you were all thoroughly . . . . . . un-American."

Mr. Tin's serving table gives way, landing him (and several pieces of crystal) on the floor. Goldsworth quickly turns his head in concern.

Mr. Tin smiles sheepishly at the butler. "Sorry."

Goldsworth continues. "For some reason, he felt that it was inappropriate for a mother to leave her children, for a lawyer to take bribes from gangs, for a wife to emasculate her  
husband and . . ." he looks at Banjo and Tin. "And . . . so forth."

"But this is ridiculous! If he was such a patriotic American, why didn't he just report us to the authorities?" Mr. Tin argues.

"He decided to put his information to good use and make a little money out of it. What could be more American than that?" Goldsworth counters.

Several nods.

"And what was your role in all this?" Mr. Legs implores.

"I was . . . a victim, too," Goldsworth admits. "At least my lover was. They were at risk of losing their job due to their. . ." He pauses, this is obviously painful for him to admit. " . . . Sexuality."

Gasps and muttering from several guests, the most vocal of whom is Mrs. Gold.

Goldsworth tries to hold back his tears and smiles. "Well, we all make mistakes . . ."

Mrs. Noir pulls a tissue from her bra and gives it to him. He takes it graciously. 

"But Dr. Boddy threatened to give my lover's name to the House Un-American Activities Committee unless they quit their job," Goldsworth continues. "They refused, and so he blackmailed them. They had no money, and the price of his silence was that I worked for him for nothing. We were slaves! Well, to make a long story short--"

"Too late," Banjo says dully.

"--Being left by my lover over such a matter preyed on my mind, and created a sense of injustice in me," Goldsworth explains. "I resolved to put Dr. Boddy behind bars. It seemed to be the best way to do it, and to free all of you from the same burden of blackmail was to get everyone face to face, confront Dr. Boddy with his crimes, and then . . . . . . turn him over to the police."

"So, everything is explained," Mr. Legs remarks

"Nothing's explained. We still don't know who killed him!" Mister Night argues.

"Well, the point is, we've got to find out in the next thirty-nine minutes," remarks Goldsworth. "Before the police arrive!"

"My God, we can't have them come here now--" Mrs. Gold worries.

"But . . . how can we possibly find out which of you did it?" Mr. Tin points out.

"What do you mean which of you did it?" Mr. Legs replies accusingly.

"Well, I didn't do it!" Mr. Tin insists.

Goldsworth nods. "Well, one of us did. We all had the opportunity, we all had a motive."

"Great. We'll all go to the chair," Mister Night remarks.

"Maybe it wasn't one of us," Mr. Legs remarks.

"Well, who else could it have been?" questions Mayor Banjo.

"Who else is in the house?" adds Mr. Legs.

Goldsworth and Yvette share a glance, "Only the (ze) cook."

"The cook!" they all exclaim.


	8. Chapter 8

The party floods out of the study to the kitchen.

They all get stuck in the door to the kitchen, except for Mr. Tin. He steps down into the kitchen and looks around.

He stands beside the freezer. "Well. She's not here."

The door to the freezer starts to open.

Mister Night screams.

The cook's body tumbles out into Mr. Tin's arms. She now has the dagger sticking out of her back. Mrs. Ho was not (and is not) a light woman, so Mr. Tin having difficulty holding her.

 

Mr. Tin shifts his glance from the corpse to the party in a panic. "I didn't do it!" he pauses, the weight of the recently deceased weighing down on him. "Somebody help me, please?" he continues to fall. No one moves. "Somebody help me, PLEASE?"

Goldsworth and Mrs. Noir move to help him as Mister Night reaches for the knife.

"Don't touch it," Mayor Banjo says quickly. "That's evidence."

"Not for us," Mrs. Noir argues. "We have to find out who did this. We can't take fingerprints!"

Banjo turns to Goldsworth, who is helping Mr. Tin up. "I think you'd better explain yourself, Goldsworth."

"Me? Why me?"

Mr. Tin also looks to Goldsworth. "Who would want to kill the cook?"

"Dinner wasn't that bad," Mister Night smirks.

Banjo, visibly concerned, speaks up. "How can you make jokes at a time like this?"

Mister Night puts his hands on his hips. "It's my defense mechanism."

Banjo scoffs. "Some defense. If I was the killer, I would kill you next."

Several guests look at the mayor, shocked.

"Oh?" Mister Night comments.

There's an uncomfortable silence.

Banjo recovers from his own comment. "I said if. IF!" he pauses. "Hey, come on. There is only one admitted killer here, and it is certainly not me, it is her!" He points at Mrs. Noir.

"I've admitted nothing," Mrs. Noir states as Banjo corners her.

"Well, you paid the blackmail.," mayor Banjo persists. "How many husbands have you had?"

"Mine or other women's?"

"Yours."

"Five," Mrs. Noir responds.

"Five," Banjo repeats.

"Yes, just the five," confirms Mrs. Noir. "Husbands should be like Kleenex. Soft, strong, and disposable.

"You lure men to their deaths like a spider with flies!" Mayor Banjo insists.

"Flies are where men are most vulnerable," defends Mrs. Noir.

"Right!" Again, it takes Banjo a moment to realise what he just said. "Well, if it wasn't you, then who was it? Who had the dagger, anyway? It was you, Mrs. Gold, wasn't it?"

"Yes, but I put it down," Mrs. Gold insists.

"Where?" Mr. Legs asks.

"In the study," Mrs. Gold answers.

"When?" Mr. Legs persits.

"I don't know!" Mrs. Gold exclaims. "Before I fainted, after I fainted, I don't know! But any of you could have picked it up."

"Hmm," Goldsworth ponders. "Look. I suggest we take the cook's body into the study."

"Why?" Banjo implores.

"I'm the butler," Goldsworth answers simply. "I like to keep the kitchen tidy."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We see the door that leads from the study to the hall. The men -- excluding Mister Night -- are carrying the cook's body into the study, effectively blocking off the women's view.

Mr. Legs abruptly drops Mrs. Ho and points. "Look!"

 

"What?" Mr. Tin and Goldsworth say in unison.

"The body's gone!" Mr. Legs exclaims.

Mrs. Ho is dropped.

"What are you all staring at?" Mrs. Gold demands.

"Nothing . . ." says Mr. Tin

"Well, who's there?" implores Mrs. Gold.

"Nobody," Banjo attempts to clarify.

"Nobody. No body, that's what we mean," Goldsworth explains. "Dr. Boddy's body. It's gone."

"Maybe he wasn't dead," Mrs. Noir suggests.

"He was," Mr. Legs argues with certainty.

"We should have made sure!" Mister Night proclaims.

"How?" demands Mrs. Gold. "By cutting his head off, I suppose."

Mrs. Noir looks at the older lady suddenly. "That wasn't called for."

"Where is he?" Mister Night asks.

"We better look for him," Mr. Legs suggests.

They look around the room.

"Well . . . he couldn't have been dead," Mr. Tin implores.

"He was," Mr. Legs replies. "At least I thought he was. But . . . what difference does it make now?"

"It makes quite a difference to him, Mister Night counters. "Maybe there is life after death."

"Life after death is as improbable as sex after marriage," Mrs. Noir proclaims in response.

Mr. Tin's eyes light up behind his glasses. "Maybe Dr. Boddy killed the cook!"

 

Mister Night and Mrs. Noir exchange a glance in sudden realisation. "Yes!"

Goldsworth approaches Mr. Tin. "How?"

Mr. Tin fumbles, at a loss.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to, um . . ." Mrs. Gold turns to Yvette. "Is there a little girls' room?"

Yvette nods. "Oui, oui, madame."

"No, dear," Mrs. Gold replies shyly. "I just want to powder my nose, thank you."

Yvette looks at the older woman, bewildered. Mrs. Gold steps over Mrs. Ho's corpse into the hall.

Mister Night, wandering around, picks up something. "What's this, Goldsworth?"

Goldsworth moves over from his spot next to Tin to look. "I'm afraid those are the negatives to which Mayor Banjo earlier referred."

Mayor Banjo nearly lunges for them. "Oh, my God!"

"Were you planning to blackmail him, Goldsworth?" inquires Mister Night.

"Certainly not!" Goldsworth insists. "I'd obtained them for the Mayor, and I was going to give them back as soon as Dr. Boddy was unmasked."

Mister Night observes the photos. "Mmmm . . . very pretty. Would you like to see these, Yvette? They might shock you . . ."

"No, merci. I am a lay-dee," Yvette responds defensively.

"Oh, how do you know what kind of pictures they are if you're such a lay-dee?" Mister Night reples, cocking an eyebrow.

"What sort of pictures are they?" Mr. Legs inquires.

"They are my pictures, and I'd like them back, please," Banjo insists once more.

"No, I'm afraid there's something in them that concerns me too," Mister Night objects.

Mr. Legs snatches the pictures and holds them up to the light. "Let me see . . ."

Mrs. Noir looks on. "Oh, my. Nobody can get into that position."

Mr. Legs puts the pictures down. "Sure they can. Let me show you."

Legs starts to demonstrate with Mrs. Noir on the couch.

Mrs. Noir glares at him. "Get off me," she demands. He quickly complies.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Gold opens the door to the bathroom. She screams. Dr. Boddy's body falls out and lands in her outstretched arms. His head is all bloody -- he is almost certainly dead now..

The party runs out to help her.

"Dr. Boddy!" Mr. Legs exclaims, seemingly shocked.

"He's attacking her!" Mr. Tin implores.

They pull the corpse off Mrs. Gold.

"Well, he's dead," Mr. LEgs observes.

"Dr. Boddy. Dead. Again," Goldsworth comments.

Mrs. Gold fans herself. "Oh, my God . . ."

"She's going to faint," Goldsworth comments.

"Somebody catch her!" Mr. Legs insists.

Goldsworth goes behind Mrs. Gold and tries to encircle her with his arms. "I'll catch you. Fall into my arms." She falls and slips through. "Sorry . . ."

Mrs. Noir looks at Mr. Tin in concern. "You've got blood on your hands . . ."

Mr. Tin panics. "I didn't do it!"

"He's got new injuries," Goldsworth observes the body. He picks up Dr. Boddy's arm and lets it fall again. "Well, he's certainly dead now. "Why would anyone want to kill him twice?"

"It seems so unnecessary," Mister Night comments.

"It's what we call overkill," Mayor Banjo adds.

"It's what we call psychotic," corrects Mr. Legs.

"Unless he wasn't dead before," observes Mr. Tin.

"What's the difference?" Mr. Legs snaps.

"That's what we're trying to find out!" goldsworth shouts. "We're trying to find out who killed him, and where, and with what!"

"There's no need to shout!" Mr. Legs retorts.

"I'm not shouting!" Goldsworth shouts louder. "All right, I am. I'm shouting, I'm shouting, I'm shout--"

At which point the candlestick, which had been nestled above the bathroom door, falls and hits him on the head.

Goldsworth hits the floor.


	9. Chapter 9

Mrs. Gold has evidently recovered somewhat.

Yvette, Mrs. Noir, and Mrs. Gold are taking the heavier Mrs. Ho into the room, Mister Night and Mr. Legs have the lighter Dr. Boddy. The guests make groans of exertion.

Mayor Banjo is issuing orders. "Okay, put the corpses on the sofa," he pauses. "Ladies first."

More sounds of exertion. They plop Mrs. Ho on the sofa.

Mr. Tin and Goldsworth enter the room, the butler hold ice to his head while the guest watches over him with worry.

"Careful, don't get blood on the sofa," Goldsworth tells the guests, clearly back to normal.

"How do we do sis? Ze dagger will go furzer into 'er back," Yvette observes.

Banjo takes a glance at the late cook. "Tip her forward, over the arm. Now Dr. Boddy,"

More sounds of exertion. Mayor Banjo nods.

Mr. Legs falls in between the two corpses, stuck. Rather than move, he decides to make himself comfortable.

"Now. Who--" Banjo closes Dr. Boddy's staring eyes. "Who had access to the candlestick?"

"It was given to you," Mrs. Noir say to Mister Night.

"Yeah, but I dropped it on the table," Night insists. "Anyone could have picked it up. You . . . him . . ."

Goldsworth starts going around the room, picking up the weapons. "Look. We still have all these weapons. The gun, the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe. Let's put them all in this cupboard and lock it. There's a homicidal maniac about!"

He locks the weapons in the cupboard. Everyone states their approval.

"What are you doing with the key?" Mr. Tin asks.

"Putting it in my pocket," replies Goldsworth.

"Why?" Mr. Tin persists.

Goldsworth smiles slightly, as if obvious. "Well, to keep it safe, obviously."

"That means that you can open it, whenever you want," Mrs. Gold argues.

"But it also means that you can't," Goldsworth counters.

"But what if you're the murderer?" Mrs. Gold insists.

"I'm not," Goldsworth rejoins. 

"But what if you are?!" adds Banjo, clearly upset.

"Well, it's got to be put somewhere," Goldsworth explains. "If I've got it, I know I'm safe."

"We don't know that WE are!" Mrs. gold stresses.

Goldsworth lights up. "I've an idea. We'll throw it away!"

The party vocally agrees. Goldsworth starts running out to the front door, the guests and Yvette follow him. Goldsworth opens the front door and prepares to throw the key out.

Waiting outside the door is a man, who ducks, thinking Goldsworth is about to hit him. The butler quickly recovers and pockets the key. The rest of the party runs up behind him.

"Sorry . . . Sorry . . ." Goldsworth laughs nervously. "Can we help?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb the whole household, but . . ." the man looks behind him. "My car broke down out here, and I was wondering if I could use your phone."

Goldsworth smiles quickly at the visitor. "Just a moment, please."

The party huddles together and discusses it. The Motorist looks rather confused. After a time, the group turns to the Motorist.

"Very well, sir. Would you care to come in?" Goldsworth offers, still nervously smiling.

"Well? Where is it?" asks the Motorist. 

Goldsworth's eyes go wide. "What, the body?"

"The phone," the Motorist looks at the group in concern. "What body?"

"Well, there's no body. There's nobody," Goldsworth corrects himself. "There's nobody in the study."

"No!" the party exclaims.

"But I think there's a phone in the lounge," Goldsworth tells the Motorist.

"Thank you," the Motorist says, looking nervously to the side.

Goldsworth leads the Motorist inside and indicates the phone.

"When you've finished your call, perhaps you'd be good enough to wait here," Goldsworth instructs. It is not a question.

"Certainly," the Motorist agrees, politely under the circumstances.

Goldsworth exits the lounge. He closes the door to the lounge and locks it. Mayor Banjo comes up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

Goldsworth yelps in fright.

"Where's the key?" Mayor asks sternly.

"In my pocket," Goldsworth responds simply.

"Not that key;" Mr. Legs interjects. "The key to the cupboard with the weapons!"

"Do you still wish me to throw it away?" Goldsworth confirms.

"Yes!" the guests and Yvette shout.

Goldsworth takes the key from his pocket and throws it. It lands on the cement and bounces into the foliage. Goldsworth closes the door. "Well. What now?"

Mrs. Noir holds out her hand. "Goldsworth, let me out."

"No," Goldsworth replies.

Mrs. Noir furrows her brow. "Why not?"

"We've got to know who did it," Goldsworth answers. "We're all in this together, now."

"If you leave, I'll say that you killed them both," Mrs. Gold says to Mrs. Noir.

There's a general agreement among the guests.

Mrs. Noir rubs against Goldsworth. "Oh, Goldsworth, I'll make you sorry you ever started this. One day, when we're alone together . . ."

Goldsworth looks to the side, not even bothering to make eye contact with her. "Mrs. Noir, no man in his right mind would be alone together with you."

There's a brief silence, broken only by Mayor Banjo. "Well, I could use a drink!"

General agreement again.

Mayor Banjo goes to the study and looks in. "Just checking."

"Everything all right?" inquires Mrs. Gold.

Mayor Banjo nods. "Yup. Two corpses. Everything's fine."


	10. Chapter 10

The guests enter the library. Upon entry, Mayor Banjo pours himself a tall glass of whiskey.

"Anybody else want a whiskey?" inquires Banjo.

"Yeah," Mister Night says.

Mayor Banjo fills three other glasses at once, spilling the drink over the table.

"All right, look. Pay attention, everybody," Mayor Banjo turns to the butler. "Goldsworth, am I right in thinking there is nobody else in this house?"

Goldsworth ponders for a moment. "Mmm, no."

"Then there IS someone else in this house?" Banjo confirms.

"No, sorry. I said no, meaning yes," Goldsworth corrects.

"NO meaning YES?" Banjo quotes questionably. "Look, I want a straight answer. Is there someone else or isn't there, yes or no?"

"Um, no."

"No, there IS, or no, there ISN'T?" Banjo emphasises. 

"Yes."

Mrs. Noir breaks her glass against the fireplace. "Please!" she yells, exasperated. "Don't you think we should get that man out of the house before he finds out what's been going on here?" She tosses the remains of her glass into the air. It shatters on the hearth.

"Yeah!" Night agrees.

"How can we throw him outside in this weather?" Mr. Legs adds.

"If we let him stay in the house, he may get suspicious," Mister Night retorts.

"If we throw him out, he may get even more suspicious," Mr. Legs counters.

"If I were him, I'd be suspicious already," murmurs Banjo.

Mrs. Gold appears to be at wit's end. "Oh, who cares?! That guy doesn't matter! Let him stay, locked up for another half an hour! The police will be here by then, and there are two dead bodies in the study!"

"Shhhh!" they all hiss.

"Well, there is still some confusion as to whether or not there's anybody else in this house," Banjo points out.

"I told you, there isn't," Goldsworth responds.

"There isn't any confusion, or there isn't anybody else?" asks Mayor Banjo .

"Either. Or both," Goldsworth replies, trying to clarify.

"Just give me a clear answer!" Banjo exasperates. 

"Certainly!" Goldsworth pauses. "What was the question?"

"Is there anybody else in the house?!" Banjo repeats.

"No!" they all shout.

"That's what he says, but does he know?" Mayor Banjo points out. "I suggest we handle this in proper military fashion. We split up, and search the house."

"Split up!" Mrs. Gold echoes.

"Yes. We have very little time left, so we'll split up into pairs." replies Banjo.

"Pairs?" questions Mr. Legs.

"Yes," Banjo confirms.

"Wait a minute. Suppose that one of us IS the murderer? If we split up into pairs, whichever one is left with the killer might get killed!"

"Then we would have discovered who the murderer is!" alleges Mayor Banjo.

"But the other half of the pair would be dead!" retorts Mrs. Gold.

"This is war, Gold! Casualties are inevitable. You cannot make an omelette without breaking eggs--every cook will tell you that.

"But look what happened to the cook!" Mrs. Gold exclaims.

Mr. Tin adds, "Banjo, are you willing to take that chance?"

"What choice have we?" Mayor Banjo responds.

"None," Mister Night shakes his head.

"I suppose you're right," Mr. Tin submits.

"Bon decor," squeaks Yvette. "But it is dark upstairs, and I am frightened of ze dark. Will anyone go wiz me?

"I will," Mr. Legs and Mayor Banjo answer quickly

Mr. Tin walks away from the three of them and joins Goldsworth. "No, thank you."

"I suggest we all draw lots, for partners," Goldsworth says, taking long matchsticks from near the fireplace.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests return to the room where the late cook meet her untimely demise -- the kitchen. Goldsworth is using a knife to cut the long matchsticks into different lengths. He prepares them in his hand so the matchs' lengths can't be seen.

"Ready? The two shortest together, the next two shortest together. Agreed? And I suggest the two shortest search the cellar, and so on, up," Goldsworth explains.

The guests approach the butler. Mayor Banjo picks a matchstick. It's relatively short. Mrs. Gold picks hers. Banjo and Gold compare. His is longer.

Mister Night picks his matchstick with a jerk. Mr. Tin reaches over Mister Night's shoulder and gets his matchstick. It is one of the uncut sticks. Mayor Banjo and Mr. Tin compare. It's not even close.

Yvette selects her stick. It's another long one.

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night compare. They match, putting them together on the ground floor. Mister Night looks disgusted.

Mrs. Noir selects hers, the rest of the party tries to match sticks. Mr. Legs picks his matchstick.

Goldsworth takes what is left. Mrs. Noir steps up to Goldsworth and pairs his matchstick. They're going to the second floor.

Mr. Legs walks by Yvette and a distraught Mr. Tin, who are going to the attic together.

Legs matches cellar matchsticks with Mrs. Gold. "It's you and me, honey bunch."

Mrs. Gold sighs. "Oh, God . . ."


	11. Chapter 11

We see the party as it splits up. Goldsworth and Mrs. Noir start up the stairs, followed by Mr. Tin and Yvette. Mr. Legs and Mrs. Gold stop, unsure of where to go. Goldsworth pauses on a step and indicates the door under the staircase.

"The cellar," Goldsworth directs.

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night stop in the middle of the Hall. "Well, we know what's in the study, we've just come from the library, and the stranger's locked up in the lounge--"

"Let's go look in the billiard room again," Mister Night suggests in a way that doesn't like a suggestion at all. They go to the Billiard Room.

Mr. Legs opens the door to the cellar. Mrs. Gold reaches in and turns on the light. They enter cautiously.

The storm is still around Hill House, visible from a second-story window.

Once on the second level of the manor, Goldsworth and Mr. Tin exchange glances -- as do Mrs. Noir and Yvette. Goldsworth and Mrs. Noir walk down the hallway as Mr. Tin and Yvette start climbing the stairs to the attic. Thunder and rain echoes once again.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness. It is impossible to say where it is exactly.

Suddenly, a light turns on.

Mr. Tin and Yvette are at the bottom of the attic staircase. Both of them are terrified of what may be above them. They stand in silence.

"Do you want to go up in front of me?" Mr. Tin asks shakily.

"Absolutely no," replies Yvette.

"I'm sure there's no one up there," he tries to reason.

"Zen you go een fron," she counters.

"All right . . ."

Neither move. They'd be surrounded by silence had it not been for the rain pattering on the window.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness. Mrs. Gold and Mr. Legs are backlit and barely seeable at the top of the cellar stairs. They edge down. Mrs. Gold gasps.

"Well . . ." Mr. Legs trails. "Ladies first."

"No, no. You can go first," Mrs. Gold insists.

"No, no, no, I insist," argues Mr. Legs.

"No, I insist," repeats Mrs. Gold.

"Well, what are you afraid of, a fate worse than death?" Mr. Legs counters.

Mrs. Gold raises her head. "No, just death. Isn't that enough?"

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In second floor hall, Mrs. Noir and Goldsworth are at the doors of two adjacent rooms. They are looking at each other nervously.

Goldsworth gestures to the room she's facing. "Are you going in there?"

"Yes, are you?" Mrs. Noir reponds.

"Yes," replies Goldsworth before pausing. "Right!"

"Right," Noir repeats.

They look into their respective rooms.

"Um, I don't see any light switches in there," Goldsworth comments.

"Well, neither do I, but there must be switches somewhere," Mrs. Noir remarks.

"Shall I come in with you?" offers Goldsworth.

"No!" she snaps quickly. Goldsworth flinches. "I mean . . . no, thank you."

They start into their rooms and then jump out simultaneously, looking for the other.

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In the billiard room, Mayor Banjo and Mister Night are in back of the corner bar. They're stooping to look in. They stand and Mayor Banjo indicates the bar's narrow egress.

"Ladies first," Banjo remarks cheekily.

Mister Night scowls. "No, thanks."

They both head for the exit, and they have to squeeze through--it's a very tight fit.

Mayor Banjo walks past Mister Night, who is sure to keep him in sight. Banjo grabs a pool cue from the wall. Night gives a little gasp and moves defensively.

Mayor Banjo walks over to the pool table and motions with the stick to look under it.

They do. There's nothing there.

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Back in the attic, Mr. Tin and Yvette are still where they were; at the bottom of the steps. The rain continues to pour.

"Go'n. I be right behind you," Yvette consols. 

"That's why I'm nervous," Mr. Tin explains.

"Zen we go togezer," Yvette suggests.

The two squeeze up the narrow steps.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Gold and Mr. Legs are still inching down the stairs of the cellar. Mrs. Gold turns on the lights as Mr. Legs slips on a step. This frightens Mrs. Gold, who runs down the remaining few steps.

"Stay there!" she yells.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the hall, Mayor Banjo and Mister Night throw open the closet door. Nothing there.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the master bedroom, Goldsworth is wandering in the dark.

"If there's anybody in here, just look out!" Goldsworth threatens air, though the nervousness in his voice betrays him.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the next room, Mrs. Noir is wandering like Goldsworth.

"Are you hiding? I'm coming . . ." she announces, equal nervous.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night are backlit, the hall behind them very clear. It appears as though they've found themselves in the ballroom, though they don't seem to know that.

"What room's this?" Banjo asks.

Mister Night shrugs. "Search me."

"All right," Banjo starts to frisk him.

Mister Night glares. "Get your mitts off me," he threatens.

The mayor does.

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Back down in the cellar, Mrs. Gold sees a rat and screams. The rat crawls away. Mr. Legs tenses, but starts to look around.

In the ballroom, Mayor Banjo flips on the lights, making Mister Night gasp.

"Nobody's here," Banjo comments.

"What if he's behind one of those curtains . . . ?" Night observes, pointing to the curtains at the far end of the ballroom.

"You look," Banjo suggests. "I'll go search the kitchen."

Mister Night opens his mouth to protest but Mayor Banjo has already left.

Night glances at the curtains. He starts to walk--slowly--toward the curtains. The curtains almost seem to be moving, but it just could be his imagination.

Then--there is definite movement off to the right.

Night stops in his tracks, trying to scream but unable to. He continues cautiously.

Night reaches the curtains, pauses . . . and throws them back, revealing . . . A broken window with wind blowing in.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It is still raining. Outside, the Motorist's car sits on the side of the road. A cop car pulls up to investigate.

The photographs and papers, as well as the tapes of the conversation Yvette was making earlier are visible. A gloved hand picks them up.

The hand throws the photos and papers into the fire. Then the tape goes in. It all burns.

The hand now uses a key to unlock the cupboard with the weapons--but wasn't that key thrown away?

The weapons are revealed.


	12. Chapter 12

The Motorist is making his phone call. "I'm a little nervous . . ."

On the opposite side of the room is the Lounge's fireplace, which is swiveling around.

" . . . I'm in this big house, and I've been locked into the lounge," the Motorist pauses. "Yes."

The wrench and slowly approaches the unaware Motorist.

"The funny thing is," he continues. "there's a whole group of people here having some sort of party. And one of them is my old boss from--"

The wrench descends.

The phone falls to the floor, then the Motorist follows suit.

A gloved hand places the phone back on its cradle.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cop shines his flashlight on the car's license plate, then underneath the car. He walks away.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night stand in the doorway, backlit by the Hall. Rain can still be heard, but no lightning.

Mayor Banjo switches on the lights. The two look around. The Conservatory is dilapidated. There is dust and cobwebs all around--it obviously hasn't been used for some time.

Mister Night walks to the outer wall of windows. Rain pours down them.

Mayor Banjo walks to one side and picks up something. He then takes a rag and wipes his hands off. While doing so, he leans against the wall, and it swings open! He falls down, but quickly gets up. "Looks like a secret passage."

"Should we see where it leads?" Mister Night suggests.

Banjo shrugs. "What the hell. I'll go first--I've had a good life."

The secret passage is narrow, and the floor is uneven. Mister Night trips and yells in surprise.

"Oh, God," Mister Night whispers.

"It's all right," consols Banjo.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the Lounge, the fireplace rotates a second time. Mayor Banjo and Mister Night emerge from behind the still-rotated fireplace.

They see the Motorist's corpse.

"Oh, my God!" Mister Night sighs, his voice more frustrated that horrified.

The fireplace slides shut behind them.

Night panics--he starts yelling.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Tin and Yvette can faintly hear Mister Night's yells.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Night and Banjo run to the double doors. They're locked. Now both are yelling.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth and Mrs. Noir run for the staircase. Mr. Tin and Yvette run down from the attic. The four people collide and go sprawling.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mister Night and Mayor Banjo are still banging at the door. And screaming.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The four upstairs untangle themselves, quickly helping each other up. Goldsworth and Mr. Tin run down the stairs followed by Yvette and Mrs. Noir.

"Where's it coming from?" Goldsworth asks.

"Where are we going?" Mr. Tin adds.

They make it to the ground floor just as Mr. Legs and Mrs. Gold emerge from the cellar.

"Where are they?" Mrs. Noir comments.

Goldsworth looks up in realisation. "The lounge!" he tries the door. It's locked.

"The door's locked!" Mr. Legs astutely observes.

Mr. Tin sighs impatiently. "I know . . ."

"Then unlock it!" Legs exclaims.

Tin turns to Goldsworth. "Where's the key?" he asks.

Goldsworth searches his pockets. "The key is gone!"

"Never mind about the key! Unlock the door!" Legs shouts.

Mr. Tin grabs Mr. Legs and begins to shake him. "I can't unlock the door without the key!" Tin releases Legs and bangs on the door. "Let us in! Let us in!"

"Let us out! Let us out!" Night and Banjo shout back.

"It's no good," Goldsworth holds out his arms and ushers Mr. Tin to the side. "Stand back." He backs up all the way across the hall to the study door. "There's no alternative. I'm just going to have to break it down!" The butler runs at full speed for the door. He hits it and falls to the floor, holding his shoulder. Mr. Tin goes over to check on him while Mr. Legs observes.

Yvette gets an idea. "I know! I have eet!" she runs to the study.

The two in the lounge are still yelling.

"Will you shut up?" sighs Mrs. Gold. " . . . We're doing our best!"

Meanwhile, Yvette grabs the revolver from the open cupboard in the study. She runs out of the study and trips over the still-sprawled Goldsworth. The shot goes wild, hitting the chandelier rope.

Mr. Tin and Mr. Legs hit the deck. The chandelier stars spinning. Mrs. Gold and Mrs. Noir run into each other.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Banjo and Night crouch down.

"They're shooting at us . . ." Mister Night trails.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Panic continues. The chandelier continues to spin, and the rope is fraying, unbeknownst to the party.

Yvette stands and aims at the Lounge lock.

Legs and Tin, who had started to get up, hit the floor again.

Yvette fires twice. Both shots hit the door lock.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mayor Banjo turns away from the door, holding his shoulder. "I've been shot . . ."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" . . . I've been shot!" 

"Come out!" Yvette singsongs. "The door eez open!" She lowers the gun, so it is carelessly pointing in the direction of Mr. Legs and Mr. Tin. They scramble out of the way.

The lounge door opens and a miraculously unwounded Mayor Banjo and Mister Night emerge.

"Why are you shooting that thing at us?" Mayor Banjo says angrily to Yvette.

"To get joo out," she says simplify. 

Banjo shoves her. "You know, you could have killed us! I could've been killed!"

Shot of the chandelier, spinning ever more quickly. The rope is almost completely frayed.

"I can't take any more scares," sighs Banjo, leaving Yvette alone now.

The rope snaps. The chandelier lands three feet in back of Mayor Banjo. It takes him a moment to recover, then he collapses onto the love seat in shock.

Mister Night points into the lounge, almost hysterical. "But look!"

The party runs across the room, crushing glass as they go. They see the Motorist's corpse.

"Which one of you did it?" Mrs. Gold accuses.

"We found him! Together!" Mister Night insists.

"How did you get in?" Mrs. Noir asks.

"The door was locked," Mr. Tin adds.

"It's a great trick!" Noir exclaims, turning to Tin.

"There's a secret passageway from the conservatory," Night explains.

Mr. Legs turns to Yvette. "Is that the same gun?" "From the cupboard?" adds Mrs. Gold.

"But it was locked!" Mr. Legs continues.

"No, eet was oonlocked!" Yvette insists.

"Unlocked?" Mr. Legs, Mr. Tin, and Goldsworth repeat.

"But, yes," Yvette replies. "See for yourself!"

The party runs into the lounge. On the way, Yvette tosses the revolver under the broken chandelier.


	13. Chapter 13

The guests pile in and see that the cupboard has indeed been opened.

"How did you know it was unlocked?" Mrs. Gold inquires. "How did you know that you could get at the gun?"

"I didn't," Yvette explains. "I sink--I would bray kit open bud it was open already."

"A likely story," Mrs. Gold says skeptically.

The doorbell rings. The guests freezing in place.

"Maybe they'll just go away," Mister Night whispers.

The guests, still frozen, are quiet. Nothing happens.

The doorbell rings again.

The guests are quite disappointed.

"I'm going to open it," announces Mr. Tin.

"Why?!" questions Mister Night.

"I have nothing to hide! I didn't do it!" Mr. Tin holds his hand out to Goldsworth. "The key."

Goldsworth places the key in Mr. Tin's hand.

Mr. Tin purses his lips. "Thank you . . ." he strides into the hall, followed by the rest of the party. Mr. Tin opens the door, revealing the Cop.

"Good evening, sir."

Mr. Tin quickly closes the door in the Cop's face.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door reopens.

Mr. Tin smiles nervously. "Yes?"

"I found an abandoned car down near the gates of this house," explains the Cop. "Did the driver come in here for any help, by any chance?"

"No," says everyone but Mr. Tin.

"Yes," Mr. Tin says at the same time, insisting that this was not the case. "Well, actually, yes."

"No," repeats everyone else.

"There seems to be some kind of disagreement," observes the Cop.

Everyone but Mr. Tin again disagrees.

"Yes," Mr. Tin agrees.

The Cop is quite confused now. "Uh, can I come in and use your phone?"

Goldsworth steps to the front door next to Mr. Tin. "Of course you may, sir. You may use the one in the, um, no . . . Uh, you could use the one in the st-- no . . . Would you be kind enough to wait in the um, in the, em, library?"

"Sure," the Cop says, confusion ensues.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cop sees Yvette. "Don't I know you from someplace?"

The maid shrugs.

"You all seem to be very anxious about something," the Cop observes about the group.

"It's the chandelier," Goldsworth explains swiftly. "It fell down. Almost killed us. Would you like to come this way, please, sir?"

Mister Night closes the door to the study suddenly and attempts to look nonchalant. The Cop whirls at the sound. Mr. Legs does the same to the lounge door. The Cop whirls again.

"Frightfully drafty, these old houses," reasons Goldsworth.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth leads the Cop into the Library and indicates the phone. "Please help yourself to a drink, if you'd like."

The Cop reaches for the cognac.

Goldsworth -- about to exit -- turns around. "Not the cognac. Just in case." The butler exists and closes the door.

The Cop looks up suddenly. "Just in case of what?"

The bookshelf door has already closed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth locks the door and turns to the assembled guests. "What now?" he whispers.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cop tries the door handle. It is, of course, locked.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We should have told him," Mr. Tin hisses.

"Oh, very well for you to say that now," comments Mrs. Gold accusingly.

"I said it then!" Mr. Tin says defensively.  
"Oh, shut up!" the guests collective exclaim.

Goldsworth is quick to Mrs. Gold and Mr. Tin's defense and indicates the shattered chandelier. "Let's clean this up."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cop pauses at the door, then walks over to the phone. He reaches for it, but it rings before he picks it up. He answers the phone. "Hello?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All are quiet and still in the hall.

"Maybe the cop answered it . . ." Goldsworth whispers.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"And who shall I say is calling?" inquires the Cop, still on the phone. He pauses as he receives the unknown answer. "Ah . . . will you hold on, please?" The Cop strides over to the library doors. "Let me out of here! Let me out of here, you have no right to shut me in! I'll book you for false arrest, and wrongful imprisonment, and obstructing an officer in the course of his duty! And murder!"


	14. Chapter 14

The door quickly opens. The party stands there, Goldsworth with broom in hand.

"What do you mean . . . murder?" inquires Goldsworth with a nervous smile.

The Cop gives a small smile and shrugs. "I just said it so you'd open the door."

The guests sigh and laugh nervously.

"What's going on around here? And why would you lock me in? And why are you receiving phone calls from J. Edgar Hoover?" the Cop demands.

"J. Edgar Hoover?" repeats Goldsworth.

"That's right," the Cop confirms. "The head of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Banjo looks at Goldsworth. "Why is J. Edgar Hoover on your phone?"

"I don't know," Goldsworth defends. "He's on everybody else's, why shouldn't he be on mine?" he steps to the library door. "Excuse me," Goldsworth enters, then closes and locks the door.

"What's going on here?" the Cop asks again.

Mister Night drapes himself on the Cop. "We're having a . . . party . . ."

The guests laugh even more nervously than before.

The Cop looks at Night suspiciously. "Mind if I look around?"

"Sure . . ." Mister Night says with a smile. "You can show him around, Mr. Tin!"

"Me?" Tin repeats.

"Yes!" confirms MIster Night. "Uh, you can show him the . . . . . . dining room . . . the kitchen . . . the ball room . . ."

"Fine . . ." Mr. Tin stiffly agrees. "Fine . . . . Officer, um, come with me. I'll show you the . . . dining room . . . . . . or the kitchen . . . or the ball room . . ."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the dining room, The Cop raises the metal partition and looks into the kitchen.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

" . . . make it look convincing," Mister Night orders.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So! This is the dining room," Mr. Tin says.

"No kidding," the Cop adds dryly.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mister Night is heard again. "Come on . . ."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What's going on in those two rooms?" the Cop inquires, pointing in the direction of the study and the lounge. 

"Uh . . . which two rooms?" Mr. Tin says obviously.

The Cop pushes past him and enters the hall.

A couple of guests run frantically across the Hall. Just as they leave the room, the Cop enters and points at the lounge and the study.

"Those two rooms," the Cop explains.

"Oh . . ." trails Mr. TIn. "those two rooms . . ."

"Yes!" the Cop stresses, rather frustrated.

Mr. Tin is at a loss. The Cop strides toward the study door. Mr. Tin blocks the Cop's path.

"Officer, I don't think you should go in there," Mr. Tin advises.

"Why not?" questions the Cop.

Mr. Tin thinks. "Uh . . ."

The Cop dodges around Mr. Tin. The guest blocks the door to the study with his body.

"Because it's . . . all too shocking!" Mr. Tin stresses dramatically.

The Cop rolls his eyes and throws Mr. Tin aside.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Music can be heard in the background of the study. It's "Life Could Be a Dream," on a record player.

Mrs. Gold is on a couch on top of Dr. Boddy, using her hand to move his arm against her and pretending to kiss him.

The Cop sees Mister Night and a woman apparently kissing against the far wall, in a curtain. Mr. Legs is actually behind the curtain. He hands are on Mister Night's back, but Mrs. Ho is propped up between them.

The Cop doesn't look surprised at all. Mr. Tin, however, is in shock at the spectacle. "It's not all that shocking. These folks are just having a good time."

The Cop leaves to the hall. Mr. Tin stands there, still surprised.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the lounge, Mrs. Noir pours a drink into the Motorist's mouth. The Motorist is propped up in a chair, drink in hand. The music can still be heard, but faintly.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the study, Mister Night and Mr. Legs roll Mrs. Ho on to the arm of the couch. Mrs. Gold has since gotten off of Dr. Boddy's corpse.

"Oh, my God . . ." sighs Mr. Legs.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just before the Cop enters the lounge, Mayor Banjo takes Mrs. Noir on to the couch and begins kissing her. She has no choice but to follow his example. 

The Cop comes in. "Excuse me?" he starts.

The two 'lovers' get up with a start.

The Cop notices the Motorist. He leans into the dead man's face and sniffs. "This man's drunk," he says to Banjo and Noir. "Dead drunk."

"Dead right . . ." Mrs. Noir muses.

"You're not going to drive home, are you?" the Cop says loudly to the Motorist.

"He won't be driving home, officer! I promise you that!" Mayor Banjo exclaims.

"Yeah . . ." Mrs. Noir murmurs.

"Somebody will give him a lift, huh?" the Cop checks.

"Oh, we'll . . . we'll . . . get him a car," Mrs. Noir promises. 

"A long black car," adds Banjo.

Mrs. Noir elbows Mayor Banjo and says quickly, "A limousine."

Mayor Banjo nods and again lowers Mrs. Noir to the couch. She gives off a little cry of surprise.


	15. Chapter 15

Goldsworth exits the library. He leans against the door and sighs in thought.

The Cop and Mr. Tin enter the Hall. Goldsworth throws off his thoughts and walks to them. "Officer!"

"You're too late--I've seen it all," the Cop informs.

Mr. Tin is standing behind the Cop, looking at Goldsworth. Tin looks mystified, but relieved. He smiles and nods to Goldsworth.

"You have?" Goldsworth pauses, stunned. "I can explain everything."

"You don't have to," the Cop tells him.

"I don't?" the butler repeats.

"Don't worry!" the Cop explains. "There's nothing illegal about any of this."

"Are you sure?" Goldsworth confirms in confusion.

"Of course! This is America," says the Cop.

Goldsworth looks off to the side. "I see . . ."

The Cop claps Goldsworth on the shoulder. "It's a free country, don't you know that?"

Goldsworth still doesn't understand. "I didn't know it was THAT free."

The Cop glances back at Mr. Tin, who tries to look innocent.

"May I use your phone now?" the Cop asks Goldsworth. 

"Certainly!" The butler leads the Cop to the library once again, and locks it. He exchanges glances with Mr. Tin.

The guests start to emerge into the Hall.

"Why did you lock him in again?" Mr. Tin asks.

"We haven't finished searching the house, yet," Goldsworth answers quietly.

"Well, we're running out of time," whispers Mr. Legs. "Only fifteen minutes before the police come."

Mr. Tin whispers fiercely in responds. "The police already came!"

"Shut up!" the rest of the guest hiss.

"Let's get on with it!" Goldsworth orders.

Yvette turns to Mr. Tin. "Monsieur?"

The guests again split up to search the house as the music continues.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night enter the kitchen. Mayor Banjo suddenly opens a door, only to have an ironing board hit him in the head. Mister Night opens the door to the freezer. He grasps one of the meathooks. It turns in his grip and reveals another secret passage in the back of the freezer. He gives a cry of surprise.

"Look!" Mister turns to Banjo. "I can't believe it. I wonder where this one goes."

"Well, let's find out," Mayor Banjo suggests.

They step in.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The music still continues.

Mayor Banjo and Mister Night swing aside a large painting and enter the the study from the secret passage.

They shrug, not at all surprised at this point.

"Let's try the ball room again," directs Banjo.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mr. Tin and Yvette are still poking around in the attic.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A gloved hand pulling a lever down in an electrical box. All electricity is shut off. The lights go out instantly, and the music stops.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Gold, in the darkness, backs up into the boiler. She thinks it's a person, perhaps Mr. Legs, and starts to hit it with her handbag. "Ahh! Don't you touch me!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A gust of wind blows in, shutting a door in the master bedroom. Goldsworth yells in fright.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the bedroom next store, Mrs. Noir runs into something and screams.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yvette is descending the stairs quietly. Mrs. Noir's scream can still be heard.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back in the library, The Cop is on the phone. "Hello? Hello?"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yvette enters quietly the billiard room.

An off-screen voice can be heard.  
It can't be identified, even as being male or female.  
The first line sounds male, the second female.

"Shut the door," orders a voice that vaguely sounds male. "Did anyone recognize you?" the voice now sounds vaguely female.

Suddenly, Yvette's French accent is gone.  
"They must have," Yvette answers, he French accent suddenly gone. "And not just my face. They know every inch of my body. And they're not the only ones . . ."

The noose given to Mrs. Noir by Dr. Boddy flies onto Yvette's neck!

Yvette gasps. "It's you!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Cop is still on the phone in the library. He whispers into the phone, "There's something funny going on around here. I don't know what it is . . ."

The door handle being silently opened.

"No, I'm not on duty," the Cop answers. "But I have a feeling that I'm in danger. You know that big, ugly house on top--"

The lead pipe comes down softly on the phone cradle, cutting the connection off. The pipe can be seen being raised behind the Cop's head.

"Hello? Hello?" the Cop asks. "Are you there?"

The lead pipe comes down hard on the Cop.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The doorbell is rings.

Goldsworth and the guests all pause in intimidation. Darkness surrounds them all. It is impossible to say who is where.

The front door opens. A young woman is outside. She is dressed in a uniform, and strikes a pose as the door opens. "I . . . am . . . your singing telegram--" she sings.

The gun fires. She falls to the ground. The door slams shut.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the attic, Mr. Tin, trying to get out, opens a closet. Its contents fall on him.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A jack-in-the-box springs open, frightening Mrs. Noir in the bedroom. She screams.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Noir's unintelligible yells can be heard.

Goldsworth yells, "Shouting! I'm coming! I'm just trying to find the door!" Goldsworth enters another part of the Master bedroom. "Coming . . ." He grasps a handle. "What's this? I'm at the door?" he asks himself skeptically. He twists the handle, starting the shower. He is promptly very wet.


	16. Chapter 16

A very wet Goldsworth sloshes down the steps. He goes to the entrance to the cellar and pulls up the lever, restoring electricity to Hill House.

The record player starts again, taking several seconds to get up to speed.

The party (minus Yvette) slowly reassembles in the Hall.

The song ends.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests walk up to the billiard room from the Hall. They see Yvette's corpse sprawled on the pool table, still with the noose on her neck. Tired and unsurprised at this point, they walk off. The guests then approach the library, looking in from the Hall. They see the Cop's corpse hung over a table. The guests stand at the door.

"Two murders," Mr. Tin sighs.

Mr. Legs enters the library and picks up the lead pipe. "Neither of them shot. I thought I heard a gun."

"I did," Mrs. Noir agrees.

"So did I," adds Mrs. Gold.

"I thought I heard the front door slam!" Mister Night adds.

"Oh, God . . ." murmurs Banjo. "The murderer must have run out."

The guests run toward the front door.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests open the door, seeing the singing telegram girl's body. It has a bullet hole neatly through the forehead.

Goldsworth glances from the dead girl to Mr. Tin. "Three murders," he corrects.

"Six, all together," Mr. Tin agrees.

Goldsworth sighs. "This is getting serious."

They close the door and lock it.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests walk onto the main floor.

"No gun," Goldsworth observes. "Yvette dropped it here. Very well . . . I know who did it," he declares.

"You do?" they all say incredulously

Goldsworth nods. "And furthermore, I'm going to tell you how it was all done. Follow me."

He walks to the library. The guests follow.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth addresses the assembled guests. "In order to help you understand what happened, I shall need to take you through the events of the evening, step by step. At the start of the evening, Yvette was here, by herself, waiting to offer you all a glass of champagne. I was in the Hall," he pauses. "I know, because I was there. Then, I hurried across to the kitchen."

He waves for the guests to follow him. Goldsworth is runs into the kitchen, the guests following.

"And the cook was in here, alive, sharpening knives, preparing for dinner. And then . . ."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth springs up to the front door, the guests following closely. He proceeds to act out events.

"And the doorbell rang . . ." he addresses Mayor Banjo. "And it was you!"

"Yes . . ." Banjo confirms, uneasily.

Goldsworth continues breathlessly. "I asked you for your coat, and I recognized you as Mayor Banjo and I prevented you from telling your real name because I didn't want,any of you to, use any name other than your pseudonym and I introduced myself to you as a butler and I ran across the Hall to the library!"

He does so, with the confused guests in tow.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth imitates everything he describes. "And then Yvette met you . . . and smiled . . ." he smiles, " . . . and poured you a drink."

He runs for the Hall, heading for the front door once again. 

The butler explains further, still breathless. "And the doorbell rang! And it was Mrs. Noir, looking pale and tragic, and I took her coat, and made off!"

They head for the library again.

"And I introduced to Mayor Banjo," Goldsworth starts to imitate Noir and Banjo. "Hello. Hello. And I noticed that Mrs. Noir and Yvette . . . flinched! Then . . . there was a rumble of thunder, and a crash of lightning," he demonstrates. "And, to make a long story short--"

"Too late," they all deadpan.

"--one by one, you all arrived." Goldsworth runs back into the hall and grabs the gong mallet. "And then the gong was struck by the cook!" He does so. "And we went into the dining room!"

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth goes around the table, indicating chairs, still out of breath from all of his running. "And Mrs. Gold sat here, and Mr. Legs sat here . . ." he pretends to slurp the soup as Legs did. "and Mrs. Noir sat here . . ." he does the same for her. "and Mr. Tin, Mister Night, Mayor Banjo--This chair," he indicates the head, "was vacant. Anyway, we all revealed we'd all received a letter," he points at various chairs, "And you'd had a letter, and you'd had a letter, and you'd had a letter--"

"Get on with it!" they all exclaim.

"The point is--blackmail!"

"But all this came out after dinner--in the study!" Mr. Tin observes.

"You're right!" Goldsworth agrees. He heads into the Hall.

The party runs across the Hall to the study.

The butler rushes around the study, pointing at different locations. "Mr. Tin stood here, and Mrs. Gold here, and Mister Night here, and Mr. Legs here, and Mayor Banjo, and Mrs. Noir, and--"

"Get on with it!" they all yell.

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there!" Goldsworth exclaims back. "And Dr. Boddy went to get his surprise packages from the Hall. And you all opened your presents," he shuts the door. "And Dr. Boddy switched out the lights!" Goldsworth turns off the lights.

Pause.

Everyone screams.

The lights are flipped back on.

Goldsworth is lying on the floor, and the guests, tired of all this, react with disgust. A couple of the guests look on, worried he's actually dead.

The butler opens his eyes. "Dr. Boddy lay on the floor, apparently dead."

"He was dead! I examined him!" Mr. Legs defends.

"Then why was he bashed on the head a few minutes later with a candlestick if he was dead already?" Goldsworth retorts.

"All right, I made a mistake!" Mr. Legs reluctantly admits.

"Right! But if so, why was Dr. Boddy pretending to be dead?" Goldsworth lowers his voice. "It could only be because he realized his scheme had misfired, and the gunshot was intended to kill him, not me. Look," Goldsworth points at blood on one of Dr. Boddy's ear lobes. "The bullet grazed his ear. Clearly his best way of escaping death was to pretend to be dead already."

"So whoever grabbed the gun from me in the dark was trying to kill HIM!" Mr. Legs remarks.

"But remember what happened next," Goldsworth reminds him. 

He goes to the door and picks up the glass from a table. "Mrs. Gold took a drink," Goldsworth points at points at Mr. Legs. "You said, Maybe it's poisoned! She screams!"

Goldsworth screams in falsetto. He takes Mrs. Gold, who helpfully(?) starts to scream. The butler sits her down on the couch.

"Mr. Tin. . ." Goldsworth slaps Mrs. Gold and then he imitates Mr. Tin. "Well . . . I had to stop her screaming . . ." he returns to himself. "Then--more screaming--Yvette--the billiard room! We all rushed out!"

As they do now.

Once in the billiard room, Goldsworth sits on the pool table next to Yvette's corpse. The guests pool around the door. But one of us . . . wasn't here." He adds in a nasally accent, "No."

"No?" the guests repeat.

"No," he responds in kind. "Maybe one of us was murdering the cook.Who wasn't here with us?"

The guests pause.

"Do you know?" Mr. Tin inquiries.

"I do," Goldsworth responds with certainty. He continues at his breathless rate, "While we stood here, trying to stop Yvette from panicking . . ."

He jumps off the pool table and leaves for the study. " . . . one of us could have stayed in the study,picked up the dagger . . ." he does so and starts running down the Hall. Goldsworth " . . . run down the Hall . . ."

The guests follow Goldsworth back into the kitchen. " . . . and stabbed the cook." He plunges the dagger into a chicken as the guests arrive at the door.

"Oh, how could he risk it?" Mrs. Gold asks. "We might have seen him running back."

Goldsworth goes over to the freezer and pushes open the back of the freezer, exposing the kitchen/study secret passage. "Not if they used this secret passage."

Mrs. Gold gasps.

"And the murderer ran back down the secret passage to the study." Goldsworth leaves the kitchen for the Hall, going for the study.

Mrs. Noir yells. "Is that where it comes out?"

"Yes! Look!" Goldsworth yells back. The butler pushes open the picture.

Mr. Tin overlooks in awe. "Wha--?"

"How did you know?" inquires Banjo.

"This house belongs to a friend of mine," replies Goldsworth. "I've known all along."

Mr. Tin scans Goldsworth, "So you could be the murderer."

Goldsworth laughs. "Don't be ridiculous. If I was the murderer, why would I reveal to you how I did it?"

The guests nod in agreement.

"Well . . . who else knew about the secret passage?" Mr. Tin continues.

Mister Night hits Banjo. "We found it. Mayor Banjo and me."

"You found it," Banjo accuses defensively. "You could have known about it all the time."

"But I didn't!" Mister Night defends.

"Well, why should we believe you?" adds Mrs. Gold.

"Because she was with us all in the billiard room doorway while Yvette was screaming, don't you remember?" Goldsworth explains.

"What I don't understand is, why was the cook murdered?" Mrs. Gold inquires. "She had nothing to do with Dr. Boddy."

"Of course she did," Goldsworth answers conspiratorially. "I gathered you all here together because you were all implicated in Dr. Boddy's dastardly blackmail. Did none of you deduce that the others were involved, too?"

Evidently no one had.

Mrs. Noir asks, "What others?" 

"The cook," Goldsworth states. "And Yvette?"

"No!" the guests exclaim.

"That's how he got all his information," Goldsworth explains. "Before he could blackmail anyone, Dr. Boddy had to discover their guilty secret. The cook and Yvette were his accomplices!"

"I see!" Banjo adds brightly. "So . . . whoever knew . . . that the cook was involved . . . killed her?"

Goldsworth nods, "Yes."

Mayor Banjo looks very happy.

"I know, because I was Dr. Boddy's butler," Goldsworth adds, "that the cook had worked for one of you."

"Well, who was it?"

Goldsworth dismisses them and turns to Mrs. Noir. "You recognized Yvette, didn't you? Don't deny it."

"What do you mean, don't deny it? I'm not denying anything," replies Mrs. Noir.

"Another denial!" Goldsworth observes.

Mrs. Noir sticks her tongue out at Goldsworth. "All right, it's true. I knew Yvette. My husband had an affair with her, but I didn't care. I wasn't . . . jealous."

Goldsworth then turns to Mister Night. "You knew Yvette, too, didn't you?"

"Yes. She worked for me," Night admits.

"And you also knew her, sir," Goldsworth says to Mayor Banjo. " We've already established that you were one of Mister Night's. . . clients. That's why you were so desperate to get your hands on those negatives. Photographs of you and Yvette with your drugs, remember?""

"Dr. Boddy threatened to send those pictures to my dear old mother," Mayor Banjo explains. "The shock would have killed her!"

"Ha. That would have been quite an achievement since you told us that she's dead already," Mrs. Noir retorts. She turns to Goldsworth. "So, he had the motive."

"You all had a motive," Goldsworth corrects.

"But where and when was Dr. Boddy killed?" Banjo asks.

"Don't you see?" Goldsworth grabs Mr. Tin. "Look, we came back to the study with Yvette. Dr. Boddy was on the floor . . ." Goldsworth trips Mr. Tin to the floor as Dr. Boddy. " . . . pretending to be dead. But one of us noticed he's alive. So. I explained that I was Dr. Boddy's butler, and I'd invited you here, and we realized there was only one other person in the house."

The guests repeat, "The cook!"

The guests run out to the kitchen, leaving Goldsworth behind.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guests enter the kitchen, breathless. Mr. Tin runs to the freezer, just like he did before.

But there's no Goldsworth.

"Well, where is he?" Mr. Tin asks the group.

The freezer door opens. Mister Night screams. Goldsworth, looking quite dead, falls into Mr. Tin's arms. He holds him in concern before realising this is just like before in the study. The exasperated Mr. Tin drops the butler on the floor.

Goldsworth opens his eyes. "By now, she was dead. We laid her down with our backs to the freezer. One of us slipped through the same secret passage--"

"Again . . . ?" questions Mrs. Gold.

"Of course!" Goldsworth replies. "Back to the study!"

They all run out.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth acts as if he had just entered the study from the secret passage. "The murderer was in the secret passage. Meanwhile, Dr. Boddy . . ." Goldsworth again throws Mr. Tin to the floor. " . . . had been on the floor. He jumped up . . ." the butler picks up Mr. Tin, then lets him fall again, " . . . the murderer came out of the secret panel, picked up the candlestick . . . ."

The butler acts as if he had a candlestick. He goes after Mr. Tin, who may not be acting his look of panic.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth is pursuing a frightened Mr. Tin up the hall,  
toward the bathroom.

"Dr. Boddy followed us out of the study into the Hall, looking for an escape," Goldsworth explains. "The murderer crept up behind him and . . . killed him!" Goldsworth brings his hand down upon Mr. Tin's head. Mr. Tin falls.

"Will you stop that!" Mr. Tin demands.

"No."

The butler grabs Mr. Tin and proceeds to the bathroom. "Then . . . he threw him into the toilet!"

"No . . . !"

Goldsworth leans against the bathroom door frame, pretending to check a watch. "And nonchalantly rejoined us beside the cook's body in the kitchen. It took less than half a minute."

"So who wasn't there the entire time in the kitchen?" Banjo inquires.

"Whoever it was, is the murderer!" Goldsworth exclaims, running off.

The bathroom door opens and Mr. Tin emerges, drying his hands. The toilet flushes. He hands the towel to Mayor Banjo and nonchalantly follows Goldsworth who has run into the study.

"And we put the weapons in the cupboard, locked it, and ran to the front door . . ." Goldsworth runs out, almost colliding with the just-arrived guests. He opens the front door and makes as if throwing the key away. "To throw away the key!" he pauses. "The motorist! I didn't throw the key away--I put it in my pocket. And someone could have taken it out of my pocket and substituted another!"

"We were all in a huddle," Mr. Legs adds. "Any one of us could have done that!"

"Precisely," Goldsworth then slams the front door. 

"Wait a minute . . ." Mr. Tin murmurs. "Mayor Banjo has a top-secret Pentagon job. Mrs. Noir's husband is a nuclear physicist, and . . ." he runs to the billiard room and points in, " . . . Yvette is a link between them."

Mr. Legs turns to the Mayor. "What is your top-secret job, Mayor?"

"I can tell you," Goldsworth waltzes in. "He's working on the secret of the next fusion bomb."

Mrs. Noir gasps.

Mayor Banjo looks over in panic. "How did you know that?"

Goldsworth leans into Banjo. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes," Banjo says, leaning in.

Goldsworth straightens himself. "So can I."

"Is this a plot between them, Goldsworth, or did Mayor Banjo do it alone?" Mrs. Gold inquires.

"We shall see, the butler replies. "Let's look at the other murders."

"Yes," Mr. Legs adds. "Bad luck that that motorist arrived at that moment."

"It wasn't luck--I invited him," Goldsworth comments amusedly. 

Mrs. Noir, Mister Night, and Mrs. Gold turn. "You did?!"

"Of course. It's obvious," Goldsworth continues. "Everyone here tonight was either Dr. Boddy's victim or accomplice. Everyone who has died gave him vital information about one of you. I got them here so they'd give evidence against him and force him to confess."

"Oh, yeah?" quipped Mister Night. "What about that motorist? What kind of information did he have?"

Mayor Banjo sniffles, almost teary. "He was the Fire Chief in my town," he sits down. 

"And what was he holding over you?" Goldsworth asks knowingly.

"He knew that I had embezzled my town's funds," Banjo pauses before painfully continuing. "I stole family heirlooms, and I sold them on the black market. That is how I made all my money. But that does not make me a murderer!"

"Well, a lot of upper class families fought and broke up because of the scandal!" Mrs. Gold scolds knowingly. "Was the policeman working for Dr. Boddy, too?"

"The cop was from Washington," Mister Night explains. "He was on my payroll. I bribed him once a week so I could carry on with business. Dr. Boddy found out somehow . . ."

Mrs. Gold looks away, revolted. "Oh, my God . . ."

Mister Night rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Oh, please."

"And . . . the singing telegram girl?" Mr. Tin asks. He looks over at the former's corpse. The rain has stopped.

"She was my client once," Mr. Legs says quietly. "I had to throw the case. That's how I lost my license. Dr. Boddy found that out, too," he pauses solemnly.

"Well . . ." Goldsworth claps hands together. "Let's put her in the study with the others."

The men drop the singing telegram girl's body on the floor.

"So. Now you all know why they died," finishes Goldsworth. "Whoever killed Mr. Boddy also wanted his accomplices dead."

"How did the murderer know about them all?" inquiries Mr. Legs. "I mean, I admit that I had guessed that this young singer informed on me to Dr. Boddy . . . but I didn't know anything about any of you until this evening."

"First, the murder needed to get the weapons," Goldsworth continues to explain. "Easy. He stole the key from my pocket. And then we all followed Mayor Banjo's suggestion that we split up and search the house."

"That's right, it was Mayor Banjo's suggestion!" Mrs. Gold exclaims.

Mayor Banjo cannot meet their eyes.

"And one of us got away from his or her partner and hurried to the study, Goldsworth explains. "On the desk was the envelope from Dr. Boddy. It contained photographs and letters--the evidence of Dr. Boddy's network of informants."

"Where is the envelope now?" Mrs Noir asks.

"Gone. Destroyed." Goldsworth looks around, then steps to the fireplace. "Perhaps in the fire . . . ." he throws aside the grate. "The only possible place," he pulls out the remnants of the tape made earlier, "Ah hah! Then, having found out the whole story, the murderer went to the cupboard, unlocked it with the key, took out the wrench--"

"Then we found the secret passage from the conservatory to the  
lounge . . . where we found the motorist dead!" Mister Night adds breathlessly.

Goldsworth runs to the Hall to frantically act out the next scene. "That's right! And we couldn't get in. So Yvette rain to the open cupboard, and shot the door open. BANG! And then, the doorbell rang!"

The doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes in terror.

"Oh, whoever it is, they gotta go away, or they'll be killed!" Mrs. Gold stresses. "Ohhh!" Mrs. Gold opens the front door.

A rather Elderly Evangelist stands outside, pamphlets in hand. "Good evening," he says kindly. "Have you ever given any thought to the kingdom of heaven?"

Mrs. Gold looks at him, stunned. "What?"

"Repent," the Evangelist says. "The kingdom of heaven IS at hand."

"You ain't just whistlin' Dixie," Mister Night remarks.

"Armageddon is almost upon us," the strange man continues.

"I got news for you--it's already here!" Mr. Legs exclaims. 

Mrs. Gold tries to shut the door on him. "Go away!"

"But your souls are in danger!" he resists.

"Our lives our in danger, you beatnik!" Mrs. Gold yells, shutting the door on him, closing several of his pamphlets inside.

Goldsworth continues as if nothing had happened. "The cop arrived next, we locked him in the library. We forgot the cupboard with the weapons was now unlocked, then we split up again, and the murderer switched off the electricity!" He does so.

Everything goes black.

"Oh, my God," sighs Mr. Tin.

Mrs. Noir squeals.

"Not again," exclaims Mrs. Gold.

"Turn on the lights!" yells a very annoyed Mister Night.


	17. Chapter 17A

Goldsworth turns on the light. He smiles. "Sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you.

"You're a bit late for that!" Mr. Tin exclaims. He turns to Mrs. Noir. "I hate it when he does that!"

She whimpers in response.

"Then there were three more murders," continues Goldsworth.

"So which of us killed them?" Mrs Noir asks.

"None of us killed Dr. Boddy, or the cook," the butler explains.

"So who did?" Mr. Tin and Mrs. Noir inquire.

"The one person who wasn't with us," replies Goldsworth. 

The guests try to figure it out.

"Yvette," he answers.

"Yvette?!" they all repeat in disbelief.

"She was in the billiard room, listening to our conversation, Goldsworth explains. "She heard the gunshot . . . she thought he was dead. And while we all examined the bullet hole, she crept into the study, picked up the dagger . . . ran to the kitchen, and stabbed the cook. We didn't hear the cook scream because Mrs. Gold was screaming about the "poisoned" brandy. Then, Yvette returned to the billiard room. She screamed . . . . And we all ran to her."

"Well, when did she kill Dr. Boddy?" Banjo asks.

"When I said," replies Goldsworth. "We all ran to the kitchen to see the cook. Yvette hid in the study to check that Dr. Boddy was dead. He got up, and followed them down the hall, so she hit him on the head with a candlestick, and dragged him to the toilet."

"Why?" says Mister NIght

"To create confusion!"

"It worked," Mrs. Gold murmurs.

Mayor Banjo nods.

"Why did she do it?" Mrs. Legs adds.

"Was it because she was acting under orders?" Goldsworth retorts. "From the person who later killed her?"

"Who?!" asks Mr. Legs.

"Who?!" restates Mrs. Gold.

"Who?!" Mister Night repeats.

"Was it one of her clients?" Goldsworth turns to Mayor Banjo, "Or was it a jealous wife?" he looks to Mrs. Noir. "Or an immoral attorney?" he points toward Mr. Legs and shakes his head. "No. It was her employer, Mister Night."

"That's a lie!" Mister Night shouts.

"Is it?" Goldsworth retorts. "You used her, the way you always used her. You killed the motorist when we split up to search the house."

"How could I have known about the secret passage?" counters Mister Night.

"Easy. Yvette told you," contends Goldsworth. "So when we split up again . . . you switched off the electricity. It was easy for you, here on the ground floor.Then, in the dark, you got the lead pipe and the rope, strangled Yvette, ran to the library, killed the cop, picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it, opened the front door, recognized the singing telegram from her photograph, and shot her."

"You've got no proof," maintains Mister Night.

"The gun is missing," Goldsworth points out. "Gentlemen, turn out your pockets. Ladies, empty your purses. Whoever has the gun is the murderer."

They all do so. Suddenly, Mister Night pulls out the revolver. He points it at Goldsworth.

"Brilliantly worked out, Goldsworth," Mister Night remarks, impressed. "I congratulate you."

Goldsworth shrugs off the praise. Mister Night starts to slowly make his way to the front door.

"Me too!" Mayor Banjo agrees, very impressed.

Mister Night points the revolver at Banjo. "Shut up!"

"Now, there's one thing I don't understand," Mr. Tin chimes in.

"ONE thing?" Mr. Legs repeats, skeptically.

"Why did you do it? Half of Washington knows what kind of business you run. You were in no real danger. The whole town would be implicated if you were exposed, Mr. Tin speculates.

"I don't think they know my real business," Mister Night reveals. "My business is secrets. Yvette found them out for me. The secrets of Senator Gold's gang relations, of Mayor Banjo's fusion bomb, Mr. Legs's Department of Justice contacts, and the work of your husband," Mister Night walks over to Mrs. Noir, "the nuclear physicist."

"So. It IS political. You're a communist!" Mr. Tin affirms.

"No, Mr. Tin. Communism is just a red herring," Mister Night answers. "Like all members of the oldest profession, I'm a mobster. And I'm gonna sell my secrets--your secrets--to the highest bidder."

"And what if we don't cooperate?" Mayor Banjo inquires.

"You will," Mister Night replies. "Or I'll expose you."

"We could expose you. Six murders . . . ?" Mr. Legs avows.

"I hardly think it will enhance your reputation at the Department of Justice, Mr. Legs," Mister Night counters with a smirk, "if it's revealed that you have been implicated not only in obstructing justice for your client, but in her death." He lowers the revolver at him, "And the deaths of five other people?"

"You don't know what kind of people they have at the D.O.J. I might go up in their estimation," Mr. Legs acknowledges.

Mayor Banjo starts toward Mister Night brings the revolver around to bear on him. "It is no good blackmailing me, mister. I have no more money!"

The guests agree, claiming the same thing.

"I know, sweetie pie," Mister Night says to Banjo. "But you can pay me in government information. He gestures with the revolver to the group, "All of you." He pauses, then walks to Goldsworth. He points the revolver at him. "Except you, Goldsworth. You, as a mere butler, have no access to government secrets," he cocks the gun. "So I'm afraid your moment has come."

"No so fast, Mister Night," concedes Goldsworth. "I do have a secret or two."

"Oh yeah? Such as?" Mister Night inquires.

"The games up, Night," Goldsworth divulges. "There are no more bullets left in that gun."

"Oh, come on, you don't think I'm gonna fall for that old trick?" Mister Night says, accusingly.

"It's not a trick," Goldsworth explains. "There was one shot at Dr. Boddy in the study. Two for the chandelier, two at the lounge door, and one for the singing telegram."

"That's not six," MIster Night argues.

"Yes it is, " Goldsworth maintains. "One plus two plus two plus one."

Mister Night thinks for a moment then shakes his head. "Uh, uh. There was only one shot that got the chandelier. That's one plus two plus ONE plus one."

"Even if you are right, that would be one plus one plus two plus one," continues Goldsworth, "not one plus TWO plus one plus one."

"Okay, fine. One plus two plus one--" Mister NIght pauses. He shouts angrily, "Shut up! Point is, there's one bullet left in this gun, and guess who's going to get it?"

The doorbell rings. Night is distracted by it. 

Goldsworth turns his arm around, taking the gun and forcing him to kneel on the floor. Mr. Tin runs for the door and opens it and cops pour in. Mr. Tin cowers by the closet in the foyer.

Banjo holds his hands up and smiles. "I'm only a guest!"

Goldsworth, still holding Mister Night's arm, looks to one of the Cops. "Where's the chief?"

The Elderly Evangelist walks in, gun in hand. "Ah, Goldsworth, well done." He turns to Mister Night, "I did warn you, my boy. Mr. Hoover is an expert on Armageddon."

Night is pulled to his feet. He looks to Goldsworth. "Goldsworth, don't hate me for trying to shoot you . . ."

"Frankly, Night, I don't give a damn," Goldsworth deadpans. "As I was trying to tell you, there are no bullets left in this gun. You see?" He pulls the trigger, firing the sixth bullet through the rope of the second chandelier. He looks on, perplexed.

Night shrugs, quite smug. "One plus two . . . plus one . . ." Goldsworth mumbles quietly.

Mayor Banjo also starts counting on his fingers. " . . .plus two, plus one . . . is--"

The chandelier shatters on the floor in back of him, shocking the Mayor for the second time this evening.


	18. Chapter 17B

THAT'S WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED.  
BUT HOW ABOUT THIS?

Goldsworth turns on the lights and continues breathlessly. "In the dark, the murderer ran across the hall to the study, picked up the rope, and the lead pipe. Ran to the billiard room. Strangled Yvette . . ." he demonstrates on Mr. Noir, " . . . ran to library, hit the cop on the head with the lead pipe. Then, coming out of the library, the doorbell rang--it was the singing telegram. The murderer picked up the gun where Yvette dropped it, ran to the door, opened it, recognized the girl from her picture, shot her, and ran back to the cellar!"

"The cellar!"the guests repeat.

"Yes," Goldsworth says with a nod.

"But Colonel Mustard wasn't in the cellar," Mrs. Gold adds.

"No," Goldsworth agrees. "But you were."

"So?"

"You murdered them all," Goldsworth explains. "You were the person who was missing when the cook and Dr. Boddy were murdered. And the cook used to be your cook! Don't you remember your fatal mistake? You told us at dinner that we were eating one of your favorite recipes. And monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine, are not often to be found in Washington, D.C.

"Is that what we ate?" Mr. Tin discusses, covering his mouth and running for the bathroom.

"Why would I have murdered all of the others?" inquiries Mrs. Gold.

"Obviously, in case Dr. Boddy had told them about you.

"So it has all nothing to do with Mrs. Noir's disappearing nuclear physicist husband and Mayor Banjo's work on the new fusion bomb," Mr. Legs observes.

"No. Communism was just a red herring," Goldsworth comments, grinning. "Mrs. Gold did it all."

"There's no proof," defends Mrs. Gold.

"Well, the gun is missing. Gentlemen, turn out your pockets. Ladies, empty your purses." Goldsworth looks over to Mister Night, whose pockets are empty. "Whoever has the gun, is the murderer."

Mrs. Gold opens her purse and pulls out the gun, pointing it at the butler. "Very well." She pauses. "What do you propose to do about it?"

"Nothing," replies Goldsworth.

"Nothing," Mrs. Gold repeats, making her way to the door.

"Nothing at all," Goldsworth confirms. "I don't approve of murder. But it seems to me that you've done the world a service by ridding it of an appalling blackmailer and his disgusting informers."

Mr. Tin quickly makes his way over to Goldsworth. "But the police will be here any minute. What happens then?"

"Why should the police come?" Goldsworth retorts, glancing at Mr. Tin knowingly. "Nobody's called them."

The guests gape at him, shocked.

Mrs. Gold watches Goldsworth skeptically. "You mean . . ."

Goldsworth smiles. "That's right. Now, I suggest that we stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly, one at a time, and pretend that none of this has ever happened."

"Great idea! I'll leave first . . ." Mrs. Gold turns around sarcastically. " . . . if you don't mind." She uses the gun to wave the other guests into a group.

"Be my guest," Goldsworth says. "In fact, I think we all owe you a vote of thanks." He starts singing in an appealing baritone, "For she's a jolly good fellow, for she's a jolly good fellow . . ."

The rest of guests start to sing as well with Mrs. Noir taking a harmony.

Mrs. Gold carefully slips out the door. As soon as the door shuts, the party stops singing. They relax somewhat--at least the immediate danger is past.

"I TOLD you I didn't DO it!" Mr. Tin remarks accusatory. 

"But what if the authorities find out what happened?" Mayor Banjo asks.

"The F.B.I. will take care of that," Goldsworth replies smugly.

Mayor Banjo looks at the butler, surprised. "You mean . . . ?"

"My phone call from Mr. Hoover?" Goldsworth recalls. "I work for him, of course. How else could I have known everything about you all?"

"There's still one thing I don't understand," Mayor Banjo chimes.

"ONE thing?" Mrs. Noir repeats, skeptically.

"Who was Mrs. Gold taking bribes from?" Mayor Banjo inquires.

"A foreign power," replies Goldsworth. "Her company, a spy agency, has influence in countries all over the world."

"Is there going to be a coverup?" Mr. Legs adds.

"Isn't that in the public interest?" inquires Goldsworth. "What could be gained by exposure?"

"But is the F.B.I. in the habit of cleaning up after multiple murder?" Mr. Legs continues.

"Yes. Why do you think it's run by a man called 'Hoover'?" Goldsworth replies.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mrs. Gold has her keys out and is getting ready to get into her car. The elderly evangelist steps out onto the driveway behind her.

"Oh, Mrs. Gold . . . ?" he inquires gently. 

She turns around cautiously, "How did you know my name?"

"The kingdom of heaven IS at hand," he says. 

He whips out a gun and points it at her as floodlights engage and cops pour out of the yard.

"Okay, take her away!"

"Take your hands off me! I'm a senator's ex wife!" she exclaims. 

The front door opens and the guests, with Goldsworth at their head, pour out onto the porch.

"Goldsworth, we got her," the chief remarks, gratefully.

"You see?" Goldsworth says turning to the group. "Like the Mounties, we always get our man."

"Mrs. Gold was a man?!" Mr. Tin exclaims in surprise.

Goldsworth slaps him, then Mayor Banjo does the same.

"Would anyone care for fruit or . . . desert?" Goldsworth inquires.


	19. Chapter 17C

BUT HERE'S WHAT REALLY HAPPENED . . .

Goldsworth switches the lights back on, "Sorry, didn't mean to frighten anyone."

"You're a bit late for that!" Mr. Tin exclaims.

Goldsworth continues, "Then, there were three more murders."

They all shout, "So who did it!?"

Goldsworth starts striding away. "Let's consider each murder one by one. Mr. Legs, you knew that Dr. Boddy was still alive. Even lawyers can tell the difference between people who  
are alive or dead. You fired the gun at him in the dark and missed, so you pretended he was dead. That's how you were able to kill him later, unobserved."

"That's right!" Mister Night exclaims. "He was the missing person in the kitchen after we found the cook dead!"

"But he was with us in the billiard room when we found Yvette screaming," Mr. Tin recalls. "If that's when the cook was killed, how did he do it?"

"I didn't!" Mr. Legs says, defensively.

"You don't expect us to believe that, do you?" Mrs. Gold retorts.

Goldsworth whips around. "I expect you to believe it. You killed the cook. She used to be your cook, and she informed on you to Dr. Boddy."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Goldsworth enters the dining room. The guests stay around the door from the Hall.

"You made one fatal mistake!" Goldsworth continues, sitting in the spot Mrs. Gold occupied during dinner. "Sitting here, at dinner, Mrs. Gold told us that she was eating one of her favorite recipes. He stands slowly, "And monkey's brains, though popular in Cantonese cuisine, are not often to be found in Washington, D.C."

The party reenters the Hall from the dining room.

"Mayor Banjo, when we saw the motorist at the front door . . ." Goldsworth recalls, " . . . you took the key to the weapons cupboard out of my pocket. Then you suggested that we all split up." Goldsworth wanders over to the lounge and continues, "You separated from Mister Night, crossed the Hall, opened the cupboard, took the wrench, ran to the conservatory, entered the lounge through the secret passage, killed the motorist with a blow on the head."

Goldsworth imitates the action of Mayor Banjo hitting the Motorist over the head. "Like that!"

He strides into the Hall. The guests follow him, amazed.

"This is incredible!" Mrs. Noir notes to the butler.

"Not so incredible as what happened next!" Goldsworth remarks, whipping back around. He continues, running up the stairs only to turn back around. "After we all split up again, I went upstairs with you, yes, you, Mrs. Noir!" The butler stops on the landing, "And, while I was in the master bedroom . . ." Goldsworth insinuates. "You hurried downstairs and turned off the electricity, got the rope from the open cupboard, and throttled Yvette."

Goldsworth looks to Mrs. Noir. "You WERE jealous that your husband was schlepping Yvette. That's why you killed him, too!"

Mrs. Noir makes eye contact with Goldsworth, detached. "Yes . . ." she pauses. "Yes, I did it. I killed Yvette. I hated her . . . so . . . much . . ." she stutters, as if trying to convince herself. "I-It-It--flame--flames . . . on the side of my face . . . breathing . . . breathle--heaving breaths . . .heaving--"

"While you were in the billiard room," Goldsworth continues, cutting her off. "Mister Night seized the opportunity and, under cover of darkness, got to the library, where he hit the cop, whom he'd been bribing, on the head with the lead pipe!" He looks to Mister Night, "True or false?"

"True!" reveals Mister Night, amazed. "Who are you, Perry Mason?"

"So it must have been Mr. Tin who shot the singing telegram!" Mr. Legs guesses.

"I didn't do it!" Mr. Tin insists.

"Well, there's nobody else left," Mayor Banjo argues.

"But I didn't do it!" Mr. Tin then pauses as if to realise something. "The gun is missing! Whoever's got the gun, shot the girl!"

Mrs. Noir and Mrs. Gold show the group their empty purses while the gentlemen guests empty out their pockets. Suddenly, Goldsworth pulls the gun from his pocket.

"I shot her."

"You?!" say all the guests. Except for Mr. Tin.

"So it was you," Mr. Tin remarks, knowingly. "I was going to expose you."

"I know," Goldsworth flashes a grin. "So I choose to expose myself."

"Please, there are ladies present!" Mayor Banjo exclaims.

"You thought Dr. Boddy was dead. But why? None of you even met him until tonight," Goldsworth reveals.

Mr. Tin understands.

"You're Dr. Boddy!"

Goldsworth smirks and starts to chuckle.

"Wait a minute!" Mr. Legs runs to the study door. "So who did I kill?"

Goldsworth shrugs simply. "My butler."

"Shucks," Mr. Legs sighs.

Goldsworth uses the revolver to wave Legs to join the group. "He was expendable, like all of you. I'm grateful to you all for disposing of my network of spies and informers. Saved me a lot of trouble. Now there's no evidence against me."

"This all has nothing to do with my disappearing nuclear physicist husband or Mayor Banjo's work with the new top-secret fusion bomb," Mrs. Noir confirms.

Goldsworth laughs, "No. Communism was just a red . . . herring."

Goldsworth runs to the front door, keeping the revolver trained on the party.

"But, the police will be here any minute!" Mr. Tin calls out to him. "You'll never get away with this, any of you!"

"Why should the police come?" Goldsworth asks, proudly. "Nobody's called them."

"You mean . . ." Mrs. Gold looks down in realisation, "oh, my God, of course!"

"So why shouldn't we get away with it?" Goldsworth inquires. "We'll stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly one at a time, and forget that any of this ever happened."

Mr. Tin, weary, takes off his glasses and starts to put them in his jacket's inside pocket. "And you'll just go on blackmailing us all."

"Of course," Goldsworth replies. "Why not?"

"Well, I'll tell you why not."

Mr. Tin whips a pistol from his jacket and fires. Goldsworth tries to get off a shot but is far too slow. The 'butler' is hit.

Goldsworth falls against the wall, shocked. "Good shot, Tinsley," Goldsworth replies, a hint of admiration in his voice. He slides down the closet door to the floor. He looks at the blood flowing out of his chest. "Very good . . ."

Goldsworth goes still but appears to still be breathing.

Mr. Tin stands fully, lowering the pistol. He already looks more confident than he has yet during the night.

Mrs. Noir steps up to him. He points the pistol at her.

"Are you a cop?" Mrs. Noir inquires.

"No, I'm a plant."

"A plant?" Mister Night questions. "I thought men like you were usually called a fruit."

Mr. Tin gives a sarcastic smile, "Very funny." He pulls out a badge, "F.B.I. That phone call from J. Edgar Hoover was for me."

Mr. Tin steps up to the front door and grabs the handle. "I told you I didn't do it!" He opens the front door and cops pour in. The elderly evangelist follows them in.

"All right," the chief starts. "Whodunit?"

The guests all try to explain, blaming each other. The cops, confused, keep pointing their guns at different guests.

"They all did it!" Mr. Tin shouts above the din. "But if you want to know who killed Mr. Boddy, I did. In the Hall, with the revolver. Take 'em away, chief."

Mr. Tin gives one last look to the guests and adds sarcastically, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go home and sleep with my wife." 

THE END

MRS. GOLD.......................................................LUCY GOLDSWORTH

GOLDSWORTH..........................................................RICKY GOLDSWORTH

MRS. NOIR.............................................................FRANCESCA NORRIS 

MR. LEGS.............................................................LEGS MADEJ

MR. TIN..............................................................C.C. TINSLEY

MAYOR BANJO.........................................................BANJO McCLINTOCK

MISTER NIGHT.........................................................NIGHT NIGHT BERGARA

YVETTE.....................................................................COLLEEN CAMP

DR. BODDY................................................................DR. JESSE FEAR


End file.
